Immortal Punishment
by lezonne
Summary: Reincarnation is never an easy topic to grasp onto, and making Hermione understand his predicement is more than Draco can handle. But what exactly is his "immortal punishment", and how does it tie in with her? Rated for violent scenes/references, minor sex scenes, language and abuse. WARNINGS: Snape bashing and past lives.
1. The Touch

Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling. **

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

**Part One: The Lives We Lead, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

His long, slender fingers danced over the finely etched design on his goblet. The cold liquid inside shook slightly as he picked up the drink and brought it to his lips, wondering if it would ease his pain. It was a funny thing how being of age can allow you the luxury of slipping by idle rules like the drinks you have for dinner.

He knew it was against school policy to drink alcoholic beverages at any point inside the castle, but he wasn't worried about the detentions or punishments that would follow his actions anymore. He didn't ponder anymore about whether or not it was worth the consequences, because as his memories surfaced more and more every day, his heart grew colder.

She was sitting just across the hall, long honey hair tied back with a high ponytail that allowed her hair to just barely graze one shoulder blade as she talked among her friends.

He adverted his eyes. She wasn't his anymore, and he had no right to look on at her like such. He had made his mistake centuries ago, and he would forever pay for his fault. She did not even know of their time together, or once had been, and he could practically hate her for that. It was entirely unfair that she could not remember, because she never remembered.

He sighed and pushed blond fringe out of his eyes. The hair had grown long and aggravating, but it gave him more of a Malfoy air then he already had, and kept his own hair just long enough to skim the tops of his shoulders; it was no where near the length of his late father's.

Pansy Parkinson sits opposite him, speaking to Daphne Greengrass about whatever girly gossip had passed their ears throughout that day. Both were respectively lovely; Daphne with her startling blond hair- not quite as blond as his, but fairly close- and green eyes. Pansy, with her ebony locks and dark eyes that seemed to look straight through you. They were lovely; but not the kind of beauty he longed for.

Glancing back up again, he took another sip of his drink, having entirely ignored the meal. The day was drawing to a close again, and he could only imagine what trauma it would cause him once again. On that fateful night, the memories were always the strongest and most vivid reenactments in his dreams. It was that day every year that he truly feared approaching.

And she, despite having been the victim to it all, would pass through the night uninterrupted.

With his next sigh, his best mate finally looked over. The blond had been becoming more and more of a downer since he met him, but honestly, around this time every year he seemed to become impossible. The haunted look that attacked his eyes and made them dead was enough to spark anyone's curiosity. He had tried, four years ago when they were fourth years, to get him to open up about whatever had been bothering him since Hogwarts started for them first year, but he begrudgingly ignored every question. Yet, he had caught the object of his obsession that year, at the Yule Ball.

"You're staring again," Blaise commented, continuing to eat. Just because Malfoy refused to touch his food did not mean that he had to do the same. And the blond's behavior certainly did not affect the giant bloke beside him, eating hungrily.

_Goyle could not eat with his mouth closed if the man's life depended on it. _Gregory Goyle had been one of his body-guards in their earlier years of school, but was now simply one of the blond's dumber friends.

Draco glanced over at his friend, before returning his gaze back across the hall, thankful that no one had caught onto his friend's words. It seemed that only Zabini paid him enough mind these days to catch his stares.

"I always stare," he commented lightly, not even restraining himself as he spoke. It was fairly obvious to the Italian that he was captivated for one reason or another, but it remained a mystery to Blaise as to why exactly. He had expected the blond to go and talk to her the moment the war ended, since all he had ever done was look on at her with a longing expression, but he had blatantly refused, and his friend had yet to figure out why.

He kept his grey orbs trained on her as she ate, just like he always had. If she were to look over, he would sneer and hold that strong gaze of hers for a moment. It was the only time he could ever get her to really look at him, and he valued that above all else, even if it was hate shining in her eyes.

"Then why don't you talk to her," Zabini asked again, finishing off his meal. "If you can watch her every day for years, you can bloody talk to her."

"I've been talking to her for years," he commented, the emotion in his voice ever unchanging. "And every time I talk to her I say something snarky to her. Talking never does me any good."

The Italian sighed, and began to engage his housemate Theo in conversation, leaving Malfoy to stare across the hall uninterrupted at her.

Draco knew he shouldn't even be watching her, because it would make the pain in the night practically unbearable, but he had to. The oldest part of himself longed to always know that she was okay, even if she didn't care for him at all. She had not cared for him for centuries.

_Over five, in fact. It happened in November..._

He stopped thinking and clenched the goblet, his knuckles turning whiter in effort. He would not, under any circumstances, think about the day he lost her. History had been repeating itself since, just to torment his mind, and thinking on it in the Great Hall would do him no good. He could not simply go over there and rip her away from the exact same buffoons who had led to her death; their misinformed minds thinking it would all be alright.

Running his opposite hand through his hair, he continued to look on. She always grew to look the same, and that in itself was a punishment. He was at least granted the luxury of seeing her, but was it a luxury when he could never tell her anything truthful? Seeing the reflection of her face, on a new body centuries later always made his heart plummet. It was entirely unfair to him, to be put through this.

It was not his fault alone that she had died, so why did only he receive the immortal punishment? Why did only he have to remember the events that went down, when all others were able to die and forget that lifetime? It had been decided that he alone deserved the punishment, until he could right it, and Draco feared that day would never come. Until it did, he would have to sit idly by and watch her escape his grasp once again.

Weasley said something in her ear, and his heart pounded in his ears as both looked over at him curiously. He started back, expression completely blank, and looked on only at her face. She held the gaze, never wavering under his dark eyes. He inwardly smirked that her true character had never really diminished. She was practically the same women from the past.

Eventually, her friend Longbottom caught her attention and she reluctantly broke away to see what he wanted. Immediately, Draco missed the intense connection. The longer they held gazes, the more likely it was that her mind would catch some sign of reorganization. But they would never be friends, and unless he threw her into the wall and made her, he was certain she would never look at him long enough for it to work.

And he couldn't do that. It would make him no better than the monster he was the day she was taken away.

He downed the rest of his drink, wondering just how many more of those he would need tonight before the memory disappeared. At least, until he fell asleep and dreamed...

* * *

She smiled at Neville as he began to talk about some Herbology work he would be doing in his spare time. The boy truly wanted to take over from Professor Sprout when she retired, and the woman had agreed to hold a spot on the condition that he took the time to learn everything he could. It wasn't often that Hogwarts hired a teacher with no background after all.

But her mind was elsewhere, focused on the blond haired, grey-eyed boy who had been staring at her. It seemed that he had been giving her the same stare every year, and each time it blew her mind. Why would Mudblood-hating-Malfoy bother to look her way every year with no malice in his eyes? It made about as much sense as Ron's tactics in Wizard's Chest.

Yet he had always done it, with no explanation. She would not dare ask him about it, because she knew he would laugh at her for falling into his trap and make some ridiculous joke out of it, at her expense. It wasn't worth the question, and so she would not bother asking. It never hurt to have people noticing the Slytherin heartthrob staring in your direction, even if it is a stare full of unreadable expressions.

And anyways, she would never throw herself into something with Malfoy, heartthrob or not! He was a sneaky, mean little ferret that she had no more time to waste this year on. Being back for her eighth year after the war was something she could not be more thankful for. She had been worried that there would be nothing done to help students that wanted to retake lessons and graduate with NEWT's marks.

But the Ministry had pulled a surprising twist on all of Wizarding Britain that had been affected. She could remember the letter now:

_Any student who is now of age and has not completed their last year of schooling, is required to take one of the following; A) Return to your school and take an immediate NEWT's test for your final scores, without the preparation, B) Return for half the year and then take your NEWT's, or C) Stay on as a full-time eighth year student and take the test at the end of the year as you would have done in your seventh year. _

That had been her favorite part of the entire summer. The opportunity to go back and learn even more was something she could not pass up, and she had immediately signed on for a full year. Harry, Ron, Neville and Seamus had signed on for half-years, and Dean Thomas had taken the test already, not passing with the highest of marks. She was exceptionally disappointed that many of her friends had opted to only do a part of their schooling. At least she would still have Luna and Ginny around, who were required to go through with their seventh year. That would be her saving grace.

It was ironic to everyone else how her favorite thing about the summer had been the letter. She was involved with Ron in some sort of relationship, although neither really knew how serious it was. After the war, there was no need to immediately get together for them. Many wizards their age and older had gotten together almost immediately, and the chapels had been bursting at the seams that summer. Hermione herself had been to four weddings, including Dean Thomas and Hannah Abbot. She was not sure what Hannah planned to do about school.

Glancing back quickly at Malfoy, she noticed he was still staring. It made her skin want to crawl a bit. Why did he have to look at her like that? The intensity of his gaze was always overpowering, and although she would never look away voluntarily and give him the benefit of knowing she was intimidated - which she wasn't!

Malfoy was just a very sketchy character in her eyes. He may have escaped Azkaban because Harry spoke on his behalf, but he was still an issue in her eyes. How could anyone place their trust in him? He had nearly killed their late Headmaster, and had allowed Death Eater's into the school. There was nothing about Malfoy that gave the impression of a good character, and she would not be tolerating him this year if he spoke out like the spoiled brat he was. They were of age now, and she would hex him as such.

Hermione didn't even notice her friends getting up around her until Ron placed a hand on her shoulder, and she glanced up. Everyone had stood and was leaving, and she quickly grabbed her large schoolbag to rush out behind them. School had been in session for nearly a month, and already she was well ahead of everyone else. It was amazing how far behind some of her friends were, especially the ones that believed they would be fine to graduate in a few months time, and get on with their lives. She wanted to argue the point, but didn't think it would do much good.

Exiting the Great Hall she bumped into Draco Malfoy, who also seemed to be exiting the hall just then. She tripped and his arm instinctively reached out to grasp hers.

The jolt of electricity that followed was enough to startle her again, and she pulled free of his grasp, eyes narrowed. The piercing grey eyes were staring back at her, just as intensely as before.

"Sorry Granger," he spat, moving from in front of her to rush quickly back up to his friends, not even bothering to throw an insult her way.

She blinked, unsure why he seemed suddenly so desperate to get away from her. Ron's large hand had come down to grasp her own, and she barely registered it as the blond disappeared down the hall towards the Slytherin dungeons.

Why did she suddenly feel like she knew Malfoy a lot better then she really did? There was a familiarity in his touch that was unexpected, and set her nerves on edge. She did not know Malfoy well, and they were certainly _not _friends. She was certain he had never touched her, actually.

"You alright Hermione," the ginger behind her asked, glaring after the retreating forms of Malfoy and his friends.

She nodded, and turned back to smile at him. "Yes, just surprised Ferret didn't throw an insult in." He nodded, and held her hand as they proceeded down the hall up towards the Gryffindor common room, before Hermione attempted to locate her common room herself.

The feel of Malfoy's grip on her arm was still very fresh.

**Part 2: Our Pasts, 1751 (Life Four)**

**Damian P`ere Malfoy (18) and Rivkah Tabitha Clayworth (21)**

He watched her pass, the heavy weight in his chest back again. She was here- again- haunting him. She was always there, within sight but out of reach. And now she would be out of bounds, since her father, Marcus, had her married over two years ago.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek as the couple passed, his own wife staring down humbly at her feet, knowing his attractions still lay elsewhere. It wasn't fair to her, how he neglected her so, but he couldn't help it. If he ever touched her, all he could remember was her own husband doing the same things to her, and that was unacceptable. He couldn't stomach the thought.

Looking around, he noticed the woman in question was wandering around in her pretty dress with her husband, making idle talk to people at this gathering. Anthony Parkinson had decided to host a Ball celebrating his upcoming wedding, and everyone seemed to have gathered. His younger sister, Eloise Parkinson sat nearby with a blank expression, obviously wanting to dance. Perhaps he would offer, if he truly cared. His eyes were only on one woman, and she could never be his again. That was his punishment for allowing her to die, and then for taking his own life over two centuries before.

You must be thinking he is an immortal man, blessed with eternal life, but you would be wrong. He is just like us - he will live and then die. But, unlike all of us who will forget our pasts once we pass through Nevermore, he will not. His immortal punishment is to remember every single kiss he shared with the woman he planned to marry, and who was savagely taken from him.

Her dark chocolate hair was pulled into an uncomfortable bun, and he missed his version of the girl, _his_ Penelope, whose hair had never been contained. But they were different people now, and they would not be allowed to be together.

So his mind would never be at peace.

His wife Gemma gently grasped his hand, and he looked up. "What troubles you Damian?"

He shook her off gently, shaking his head. "Nothing, I am just very tired." And in truth, he was.

Gemma- a pretty woman with ebony locks and a slightly pinched face- glared back at her husband. She could only pretend not to care about his emotional affair so many hours a day. Since the day they married, he had been detached.

And she knew exactly who the woman was; Mrs. Rivkah Clayworth. He had been watching her every day he could, and they only ever seemed to attend the parties she would be at. To say she was jealous, would be a lie. She could not be jealous because she did not love the man in front of her either; they just got along well enough for marriage. Their son, Cepheus, was about all that kept them together these days. It was nothing but a loveless marriage anymore.

So she watched him watch Mrs. Clayworth parade around with her dear husband, looking slightly unhappy. Gemma could only imagine why, but didn't put much thought in. Obviously, she was in this emotional affair too.

Several minutes passed, before the couple came to visit them. Dennis Clayworth was notorious for greeting everyone present at a gathering, even if it was not his own gathering. "Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy," he said politely, shaking Damian's hand and kissing Gemma's. Their son, Cepheus, lay in her arms.

"Clayworth," Damian replied coldly, ignoring the disapproving stare his wife was giving him. "Mrs...Clayworth," he continued, remembering not to snap. She didn't remember anyways; so it would do no good.

The couples talked for a while, until Damian finally took his son and went out for some air, needing to get away. He couldn't look at her anymore, not on the arm of another man, _again._

This was the fourth time their paths had crossed. The first, brought on that fateful day that started everything, and his punishment. The second was the hardest, to watch her completely hate him that first time, with no memory of the painful past they shared. The third time had torn him apart, but made him realize something; there was no going back. She would never be his again, and he had to accept that.

Even if it caused him so much pain.

* * *

**A/n: **New story! Like, hate, read too many times? Oh, and this story does base itself around the concept of reincarnation, and maybe gods, depending. So, if that's not your thing, then this probably isn't for you! And, if I continue, the chapters will get an awful lot longer! This is just the set up chapter :)

Review?


	2. The Memory

Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

**Part 1: My Memories, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Hermione Jean Granger and Draco Abraxas Malfoy**

It was so strange to still feel a tingling in her hand from the touch of Malfoy of all people. The slime she had hated for years made her tingly? That was absolutely absurd.

The linens on her bed were comfortable to sleep on, but kept sparking something in the back of her mind that she just couldn't quite place. Why would she need to place anything of the sort? She had slept on a bed enough times to be familiar with linens, _that _was nothing new. Still, there was something pulling at the back of her mind that she couldn't place. What could it be?

Her head girl's room was beyond everything she had assumed it to be; large, grand, and equipped with her own personal sitting room and small kitchen. And the best part was that it was hidden, so she didn't have to share with anyone she didn't want to.

In fact, the only student who currently knew where her bedroom was located was Malfoy, because she also knew where his lay. She assumed that had to do with convenience when planning events and for when they patrolled together at night, but she would feel better knowing that the slimy ferret didn't know where she rested her head. It's not like she really wanted to know where he slept either, unless he did something stupid one day and forced her to play a trick on him.

But for now, she was content in her bed, lying still after the busy day. Malfoy had been strange for the entire train ride there, and even had the courtesy to say 'sorry' when he bumped her getting on. It was startling; the trademark scowl was in place when he said it, but there was sincerity there that she had never noticed before. When had that started?

She couldn't help but think it would take a bit longer to change that horrible boy. He bullied everyone he came into contact with not so long ago, but now he would say sorry to her of all people, who he had placed lower then low? It didn't quite add up.

Sighing, she rolled over and cuddled into the pillows, her cat in his own bed against the wall. Unpacking could wait until tomorrow.

* * *

Draco twirled the ring between his thumb and pointer finger, a ring too small to ever fit his own, yet he was sure it would fit her hands near-perfectly, even after centuries and a new body. Granger had grown into a near replica of her former self this time, and it was strange to see such an exact copy after centuries of varied girls. She never took on the exact same persona, because no one ever could. Even he had changed each time he returned to this plane of existence, and it had evolved him into who he was today; which could be good or bad.

He doubted anyone would believe that in his first life his hair had been dirty blond. That's what his former self had for hair, and only two of his lives actually had the infamous platinum hair to brag about. One would be surprised how many Malfoy's had darker blond hair, but hey, who would believe that?

Her touch was like fire; he couldn't believe how long he could survive without her. It had been so long, and the touch ignited a spark in him he chose to forget. He missed his childhood, age fifteen and younger, when he never had any memories of his past. He supposed that was only because a child with full knowledge of their past life could cause problems both for himself and others around him. But, it could always be because that's when he had first met Hermione Granger over five centuries ago, as Penelope instead of Hermione. _His _Penelope; the girl he wanted to spend his life with, but would never be allowed to. His chance was gone the moment Penelope was killed.

Draco shook his head. Thinking on the past would change nothing- history was already in place and it wouldn't be changing. All he could do was go through this life again, and again, until she remembered. That could be centuries still.

When would the torture end?

He wanted desperately to reach out and hold her hand, or brush a piece of stray hair from her cheek. It would be different from how he courted her the first time, since it was rare to court anyone anymore. He would have to ask Granger on a date, and that would never happen. He expected her friends would probably kill him anyways.

Besides, it would do him no good to try. She would never remember until her mind decided to. With a sigh, he leaned further into the sitting chair, willing himself to think of anything else besides her; it was doing him no good anyways.

The last time he had been able to touch her was over three centuries ago. He had touched her sometimes at Hogwarts, when he was playing the git, but it had been so long since he held her that it was nothing but a vague memory, and he feared she would not let him again. Perhaps she would never remember at all.

He closed his eyes, a memory of the last time he had gotten to touch her passing through his mind. It had been back in the 1600's, when he had been a young Lord of the historic Malfoy Manor, after his father passed so early. He had been barely seventeen, and she had lived near the set of stores in Diagon Alley that he visited so often. They had spoken occasionally, but that day they had spoken for a while outside of one of the shops.

_Omar Julian Malfoy and Annalisa Coralie Williams, 1646_

_She was sitting at an outdoor table, her dark tresses flowing down her back in pretty waves; an uncommon feature for a woman in this part of Magical London. The women here commonly wore their hair pulled up into difficult up-do's. _

_He knew she was so sad because people had been taunting the young women over her widowed mother's choice in men. After the death of Annalisa's father, her mother, Lauren, had taken to searching for another man in her life. It was unbecoming in this age of the magical world for the women to have a fortune with no man to help finance it. Many people did not agree with the rule, but none argued. _

_He was surprised she was outside at all. The mere idea of her mother betrothing a muggle man was beyond embarrassing. The poor girl was probably mortified at the idea of her family's status going from pureblood down to nothing more then half-blood. He wondered if she would follow in her mother's footsteps and marry another magic less man, degrading her magical heritage further. _

_As he neared her however, he noticed that no tears stained her pale cheeks, and there was no shaking in her shoulders. He also thought about how uncustomary it was for a young woman his age to be without an escort, especially nearing dusk. Nearing the door he nodded his head, fighting down the twinge in his chest as he made to pass her._

_"Tis a beautiful twilight Omar," she said, stopping him in the doorway. He arched a delicate eyebrow, inclining his head at her. They had rarely spoken, only at a few formal parties the two had journeyed to, and he had only ever danced with her in this lifetime once, when she was escaping another man that made her uncomfortable. _

"_Yes, tis," he replied, looking around. It appeared not one member of her family worried about her sitting on that little chair beside the Victorian table, at dusk. Did they simply believe nothing would happen, or was there a hidden escort nearby that he did not see? He hoped it to be the latter for her sake. "But what, pray tell, is thou doing hither alone? Seems dangerous for thou to be out here so late."_

_She laughed lightly and smiled up at him. His heart caught in his throat but he did not dare show it. "Nary, only enjoying the air tonight. What is thou dost?" Her eyes sparkled lightly. _

_He gestured with his head. "Heading inside, perhaps where thou should be as well."_

_Shaking her head, she looked away. He admired her long hair again. "Mother can see me from hither. I do not worry."_

_Omar frowned. She seemed very calm sitting there as the sky darkened, her arms bare in the cool breeze. He would prefer her inside, away from danger. The last time they met, she had lived to be only thirty-one, but died from disease and not him. He would feel horrible if she died again because he was careless. "Tis late, a lady should be inside keeping warm by her fire." _

_As if to prove his point, a chilly November air blew past the pair, but she did not shudder. She looked rather stony, in fact. "The cold dost not bother me."_

_He nodded, stepping away from the shop he had been about to enter and walked closer to her, keeping his distance. The small patio had a covering that did little to protect her, and he decided she would catch a cold soon in the dress she was wearing; it appeared to be for the summer instead of winter. He could not fathom why she had chosen to wear it now. "Dost something bother you, Annalisa?" He hoped it was not too forward to call her by name, for she had used his already. He may have known her for centuries- since the 1400's- but to her they had only spoken so often, and rarely at length. Their dance together had been their longest conversation. _

_She looked up at him again. "I am to be married. Mother told me just this morning. His name is Gary Williams."_

_He felt his heart constrict. So she already had a marriage coming? That would never do! He hated to think of seeing her on another man's arm again, having already done so in his second life. This was their third life; separately lived but connected through a curse, and he could not imagine dealing with this forever. Her last husband in her last life- Alexander Potter- had been bad enough. To think; one of the relatives of the very man that had been the cause of her death- well, her former death- in another life. It made so little sense, but he had the chart at home; the one he made sure to collect when his memories resurfaced. It was simple to get; he simply placed the list in the same book each time. He would need to re-reference it again soon. _

_In his first life he had been someone else; a reckless boy who fell in love too quickly and carelessly, and paid the price with both their lives; her murder and his suicide. Needless to say, the pair had been interesting in their lifetimes, and that only transferred into the lives they shared now. Personalities rarely change over time, no matter how much you may want to change. He had realized that after entering into his second life._

_That settled it; he would need to look at the chart soon. But Annalisa Coralie was still looking at him in wonder, waiting for her response. "Gary Williams is a fine man. Thou should be proud to marry one so respectable."_

_Her dry laugh was startling. "I am far from proud. My mother is sending me to be married so she canst have time alone with her own husband. I am too young though to marry."_

"_Yes, you are," he thought, but didn't say. He only nodded, not sure what else to say to the young woman. Reaching over, he pulled a rose from the bush nearby and handed it to her. "This will be how he sees thou; too beautiful to touch and soft, something he shall always work to protect." Extending the flower, she took it with a grateful smile._

"_This I doubt Omar. Gary is not a sentimental one; he shall pay me little mind."_

"_Perhaps, but then he would play the fool for ignoring thou."_

_She chuckled and stood, finally rubbing her numb shoulders. "We will see. I bid you goodnight Omar."_

"_And you," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it. The touch sent nerves through him but he ignored them entirely as he released her, making sure she was safely through her door before opening the shop door again and departing the bitter weather, which had cooled quickly in the last few minutes. _

He groaned and came out of the memory, rubbing his head. Every single version of her was nearly the same, and each haunted him more and more with each day. It was completely unfair that he was punished for her death, when it had not been his fault. He may have been her lover, but he had not been the one who ended her.

He was punished for not being there to save her. And now he remembered. He had controlled himself for centuries, keeping his feelings crushed and his emotions unreadable, making sure she never found out. If the discovery of their knitted pasts came before she was ready to know the results could be disastrous. There was no denying that at least in one other lifetime she had fallen for him, but he had ignored her. She had absolutely no memories, and he could not have her until she did. It was the only way he could have her.

Grunting he left the chair and walked to his room, his emotions in an uproar again. He wanted to hold her, but Granger would never let him do that. She would sooner hex him.

But the small flash in her eyes earlier gave him a hope that hurt. It hurt to hope that she would remember, because the downfall when she didn't was devastating. But still, that flash in her eye reminded him so much of Penelope, that it was scary.

He just needed to lie down, and everything would be back to its relentless reality in the morning, one where Granger had no idea he could be nice and he walked through the halls as a shell of a human being.

* * *

The next day they had potions first like they always seemed to. Draco took a seat next to Blaise, with Granger on the opposite side of the room beside Potter. Potter... he had more than one reason to hate that name.

A few minutes later, Snape walked into the room, his dark cloak billowing behind him. It was surprising that the presumably-dead potions teacher was back, but apparently the spell had bounced off of him incorrectly, coming into contact with something else as well and weakened it, letting their potions master survive. Draco didn't bother worrying about it too much, but he barley understood anyways, and Snape got annoyed when asked.

"Malfoy, Granger, partner up," he said on his way to the front.

Draco felt his stomach drop. That was just lovely wasn't it? Now he was supposed to sit side by side with the girl who haunted his dreams? What was Snape pulling?

"Sir, I would rather not-"

"Ten points from Gryffindor. Classes the Heads share together are expected to be classes the Heads _work _together." He did not elaborate, and Granger looked too irritated to push further anyways. Draco elbowed the Italian next to him, who reluctantly got up and placed himself beside Potter, both looking immensely displeased.

Hermione sat down and placed herself as far from Draco as possible. He tried to not acknowledge that he enjoyed her closeness, but it couldn't be helped. If this was supposed to be another lame attempt at the house unity Hogwarts had been trying for years to accomplish, then he would ignore that fact and use it to his advantage to be closer to her. She may not like this arrangement, but he did. But no one knew that.

Snape lectured for several minutes in his usual drawl, glaring down Gryffindor's and praising Slytherin's, before waving his wand, which copied a spell and its instructions onto the board and the students began working. Thankfully for Hermione, it wasn't a partner assignment.

He waited until after she had gotten her ingredients to get his own. It was disorienting being so close to her again; it had been too long and his emotions were flying all over. Keeping his face impassive, he continued to work once his ingredients were gathered, trying not to glance at her but failing. Eventually she caught his eye.

"What are you looking at Malfoy," she said in that ever-present bossy tone of hers. He rolled his eyes and continued working.

"Not much," he replied, letting nothing show as he spoke. No matter that it bothered him to be so rude to her.

She scoffed. "Great comeback," she said, turning back to her own work. They were quiet for a while again, with Draco still glancing up at the girl he had known for so long.

Her eyes caught his again and the questioning look in them sent another powerful wave through his mind.

_Omar Julian Malfoy and Annalisa Coralie Williams, 1647_

_He watched her through half open eyes as she walked down the aisle, his mask of indifference ever in place. His family had been invited to the marriage of Annalisa and Gary, much to his displeasure. This was the absolute last place he wanted to be, but could not decline the invitation no matter what he told his younger sister, Emma. _

_She looked so beautiful in her white wedding dress, but so very sad as well. The smile was plastered to her face and did not reach her eyes, which were darting quickly around the full room, searching out a particular face. They came to land on his own, and the questioning gaze there did not need to be answered. She believed that he wanted her to marry someone respectable, being her friend, but lately they had hit a rough patch as the wedding drew closer. She could not figure out what had him in such an awful mood. The intensity of the gaze was powerful, and drew several looks from guests, who could not fathom why she was looking at that particular man- other than the obvious reasons- instead of her groom-to-be. _

_The woman he was escorting for the night turned and gave him a pointed look. Her name was Vivienne, and they had met only a few months ago when their arranged marriage was announced. His grandfather knew he needed to have a wife at his side in order to be properly looked upon by the older investors in Britain. It would do no good for them to be unable to make deals; the family business would burn. So Vivienne's father Arthur had met with Omar's grandfather and arranged this against his will. He was nearly eighteen, but the woman he was marrying was only fifteen. She had dull green eyes and dark black hair like a forest. She had also apparently been in Slytherin, and would continue the rest of her schooling after their wedding. _

_He was not happy with the way things were going, but the look of defeat in Annalisa's eyes nearly broke his heart. It was the same look she had given him when she was still Penelope, and had discovered her betrothal to Henry Krum. _

_She turned her gaze back and continued walking towards her future husband-_

The memory cut off suddenly as he heard Granger topple over in her stool beside him. He did not have the reflex's to catch her just then, and stared at the panicky girl on the floor in front of him, now drawing looks from everyone in the classroom.

"Miss Granger, ten points from Gryffindor for- and just where do you think you are going," he called, as the girl got up and scurried out of the classroom, horrified.

Everyone was silent for a moment, before the Wonder Duo stood to follow her. "Sit down," Snape barked, "or everyone in this classroom will receive a detention."

Grumbling, the two boys sat down, looking rather miffed and the room broke into quiet chatter about what Draco could've done to Hermione. The blond was currently receiving death glares from her two best friends.

He was too preoccupied to notice though, for there were too many thoughts rushing through his mind. His memory had cut off the moment Granger started falling, which was peculiar since he did not even turn his head and notice until she was on the ground. Several thoughts about why that was raced through his head but he shook them away. There was no way any of them could be possible.

His thoughts still on her, he forgot to finish his potion and didn't notice the other students had moved their cauldron's to the back of the room until the bell signaled for the next class. Surprised, he nearly toppled from his own chair just like she had. With a click of his wand, both the cauldron's occupying the desk in front of him moved to their spots in the back to await the next class. He quickly discarded the scraps leftover from his potion and left the class, grateful that there was no one outside to be a bother to him.

He didn't even take note of Snape's surprised expression as he watched the entire thing, completely unsure why his godson was helping the girl with her things. The only thing he did not touch was her bag, which he had propped up on the tabletop probably in hopes that she would return for it before next class.

**Part 2: Confusion, 1999, (Life Six)**

**Hermione Jean Granger and Draco Abraxas Malfoy**

She hadn't meant to intrude on his thoughts, not one bit. But for some reason she had held his gaze too long, or _something_, and had been swept into this obscure memory from the... who knows when that memory was from!

It had something to do with a wedding, and a woman she begrudgingly admitted looked similar to her, but had _nothing _to do with her, because no Malfoy would be caught at the wedding of a Mudblood.

The entire thing had been told to her as though someone was narrating his thoughts. _How pretty the girl looked, what his wife-to-be was called, some girl named Penelope... _it all sounded rather strange really, and made absolutely no sense.

What she couldn't understand was why she saw the memory too, and had a feeling of absolute dread as the woman in white walked closer and closer to the altar. Why would that be though? She had no connection to the memory, and the feeling of everything was so old Malfoy would have to have been a vampire to even have a memory like that.

Hermione found the girl's bathroom near the potions class and burst in, very thankful this did not happen to be Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She needed time to think on her own, and not be interrupted by the highly annoying ghost.

That memory... vision... whatever that Malfoy had in the middle of potions, he seemed to think he was having alone. The look of confusion on her face when she toppled over and broke the connection between them. His mind must've trailed off, considering he bothered to glance down at her at all. She had almost expected him to kick her rather rudely like he had done in their earlier years at the school. Instead- she would almost say he looked _concerned_- but it was Malfoy, so she would go with annoyed.

Leaning against a sink, she took several deep breaths. Whatever it had been seemed so real it was scary, and she did not want to experience it again. All that would take though was avoiding Malfoy, which would be easy if she wasn't 'partnered' with him in the classes they shared!

_Perhaps it was just Snape's way of getting back at me for being... well, me. But he would never punish Malfoy of all people like that. He would sooner put me with Goyle..._

She shook her head and turned on the faucet, enjoying the cool splash of water on her features, and was again thankful that she rarely wore make-up unlike most of the girls at this school. Turning off the water she leaned heavily against the sink and stared at her reflection.

The woman in Draco's mind had almost the exact same features as her. It was bothering her, and the more she stared the more she could find similar. _Same eye shape and distance, same small ears, same full lips, different noses though... and our eyes are different colors-_

Hermione stopped there and shoved away, frustrated with herself. Malfoy had probably intentionally done that to mess with her, and that's all there was. And she was buying into whatever strange vision she saw. If it had lasted longer she presumed the bride would strip down and dance, if the blond's reputation had anything to do with it. Yes, that's all there was to that little mess, and she need not worry anymore.

Satisfied with her calculated conclusion to the situation, she stepped out of the bathroom, ready to return and collect her bag. The bell had gone off a minute or so ago, and she would need to hurry to be on time to her Herbology class that thankfully did not have Slytherin's.

There would also be the issue with explaining her departure to her friends...

* * *

Dinner came around, and he was staring again. The scene from potions had died down, and everyone either assumed that Draco had used magic to push her or the girl had fallen over herself when he winked at her- a rumor that only Pansy and mentally ill girls like her believed.

It was expected. Whatever had happened was not normal and he could not yet draw a conclusion. Perhaps he should put it in his notes, for reference when this lifetime failed him as well.

She looked better, but was tightly crammed between her moronic friends. At least the panic that had been evident in her face after falling on the floor earlier was gone. He could at least sleep tonight knowing he hadn't scared her to death.

Her hair was pulled into a messy bun with a few stray pieces attacking her neck. The blond nearly jumped from his seat when Weasley pushed a piece behind her ear, but refrained. Blaise was already giving him strange looks. The fact that he kept looking at her though was thoroughly annoying Draco. Didn't Weasley have a relationship with that Lavender whore or something?

He watched them for another few minutes, his thoughts working. Had she possibly seen what he had been thinking of? It was the only thing he could think of to make her look up at him with such a confused, scared expression. It's not like she'd ever looked at him like that before.

_Because in this lifetime she has never had a reason to be afraid of me. _

He sipped the liquid in this goblet. Alcoholic again, and he could tell Zabini noticed the smell when he reached for more food, because he gave the blond an interested look. It was doing him no good though, and he finally set it down. Zabini and Greengrass looked up at him, being the two closest to him.

"I'm going to my room," he said sharply, not waiting to hear any responses. A new headache was forming and the noise of the Great Hall would do nothing but make it worse. He just wanted to retire to his private space and think, perhaps even take a few notes on what happened today so he could remember later. That little book was a complete blessing; it was directly next to the scrap of paper he kept with who they became each time, and when.

It was strange however to document your own death. Climbing the stairs, he frowned and thought further on that note. He had died enough times to know it could be either painful or painless, but it all depended on the time of death. For example, his one-time suicide had been painless because it happened so quickly.

He reached his rooms and mumbled the password, his headache increasing. Entering, he quickly located the book that hid his list, as well as the journal all Malfoy's kept because it was written by an ancestor (mostly) but no one ever read. He was thankful no one took interest in it; else it might be thrown out one day since to anyone besides him it hardly made sense.

Instead of going for the notebook first, he reached for the book at its side and removed it, opening it to the same page as always. Pulling out a slip of worn paper, he unfolded it and set the book aside. Six sets of names and dates jumped out at him;

_1. First Lifetime_

_Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana __

_Birth of Penelope: April _ 1470_

_Death of Penelope: November 26, 1489. Murdered. _

_Engaged but never married._

_Birth of Lowell: January 17, 1470_

_Death of Lowell: November 27, 1489. Suicide. _

_Never married. _

_2. Second Lifetime_

_Dreu Antoine Malfoy and Harmony Joan __

_Birth of Harmony: October 20, 1519_

_Death of Harmony: August 9, 1550 Natural Causes_

_Married Alexander Potter. _

_Birth of Dreu: May 25, 1523_

_Death of Dreu: April 20, 1559 Natural Causes_

_Married Anastasia Laura_

_3. Third Lifetime_

_Omar Julian Malfoy and Annalisa Coralie __

_Birth of Annalisa: _ 1630_

_Death of Annalisa: September 19, 1667 Malaria_

_Married Gary Williams_

_Birth of Omar: August 22, 1629_

_Death of Omar: April 3, 1673 Cholera _

_Married Vivienne Clara _

_4. Fourth Lifetime_

_Damian P`ere Malfoy and Rivkah Tabitha __

_Birth of Rivkah: December 12, 1730_

_Death of Rivkah: February 22, 1770 Yellow Fever_

_Married Dennis Clayworth_

_Birth of Damian: July 30, 1733_

_Death of Damian: May 1, 1775 Natural Causes_

_Married Gemma Elizabeth _

_5. Fifth Lifetime_

_Rafe Dax Malfoy and Hannelore Marie __

_Birth of Hannelore: March 14, 1840_

_Death of Hannelore: April _ 1903 Natural Causes_

_Married Robert Hollingberry_

_Birth of Rafe: September 25, 1845_

_Death of Rafe: June 28, 1910 Natural Causes_

_Never married._

_6. Sixth Lifetime_

_Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger_

_Birth of Hermione: September 19, 1979_

_Death of Hermione: __

_Birth of Draco: June 5, 1980_

_Death of Draco: __

There were empty lines for everything he didn't know, and everything that had yet to happen. He wondered how many more lifetimes would pass before this game ended.

With a sigh, he stood again and walked back to grab the notebook, prepared to document the strange occurrences that day. And he still had so much to think about.


	3. The Research

**A/n: **I started working at a new job, so it's a day late. From now on updates maybe a day or two off at most, but that's it! I'm just warning you, but updates will continue to be as quick as possible.

* * *

Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**! **Not yet edited.

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

**Part 1: A History Together, 1483 (Life One), age 13**

**Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana**

"Lowell," Penelope said, inclining her head from her spot on the stone bench to the approaching man. He was only slightly shorter then her own small frame, but height would come with the years he had not yet lived.

"Lady Penelope," he said in a half-formal tone, coming to stand beside the young woman but not to sit with her. His blond hair, unlike his father, Belmont, was a darker blond worn long and tied with a leather thong to keep the hair from his eyes. Her own tresses lay in a heavy up do on her head, the brown curls confined too tightly for her liking. "It is a pleasant day."

She chuckled. "Pleasant? The weather is marvelous today Lowell."

Lowell Malfoy was the eldest son of Belmont Malfoy the II, with three younger sisters and a brother to follow him. Later on, after his death, those three girls would meet an untimely end during a fire at a store they loved so much, leaving the youngest son to be the heir; Dimitri Malfoy.

His dark grey eyes looked upon the girl in front of him with nothing but admiration. He had known Penelope since he was nothing but a baby, and had been by her side every year since. Everyone in the town knew they were the closest of close friends; he would often be seen escorting the young beauty to shops while their mothers sat nearby speaking of this or that. Lately those plans had changed, however, after her mother's death only a few weeks before. Now the young heir had to drag his friend to places for the girl to see the outside world at all.

Penelope would be a beautiful, sought-after woman when she grew older, and he was certain she would have multiple marriage proposals. The dark brown hair flattered her pale complexion, and green eyes sparkled with humor when she laughed. The girl was alive, and she was moving into her prime. Lowell did not want to think about the buffoons he would see her wandering with, for it would only cause him a headache. Try as he may, he could never force the idea of marriage to Penelope from his mind. She was so beautiful and kind, but her father would never have her marry a Malfoy, when the men had been known to be disloyal.

Of course, he did not worry about this when the two went out together, for he knew they were too young. Thirteen was a young time to begin such habits, and he was certain Belmont's son would never tarnish his name by bothering a virgin women. He only seemed to fear the idea of the pair marrying, much to Lowell's annoyance.

The blond shrugged at her. The crisp September air was blowing past them, and he thought it was just too warm out. Penelope however was drinking in the sun, and he would not put a damper on the girl's mood.

He sat beside her, the rim of her parasol bumping lightly into his head. She did not adjust so he could sit both fully on the bench and without tilting his head, but the smile was evident on her face so he quickly reached over and took the piece away, collapsing it and setting it on the grass at their feet.

She frowned. "You should never take something so blatantly from a lady Mister Malfoy."

He chuckled this time and stood, defeating the purpose of taking her parasol. "Perhaps I shall return it then, if I may beseech a question."

"Thou ask so little. Ask away, and I may answer thine question."

He smirked, a trademark that would always stay with him. Reaching for her hand, he clasped it and the girls turned face snapped around. "I ask thou, my fere, to accompany me to Lord Nott's ball in a fortnight."

The girl in front of him smiled. "I am glad thou asked. Now I dost not go with the Lord's son."

His chest tightened at the mention of Lord Nott's son. He was a conniving boy, who would weasel his way in beside the girl. Her father would probably have a fit over the whole thing. "Then I am happy to help."

* * *

Penelope was in her room, brushing her hair the following night when a sharp hit attacked her window. Setting down the brush cautiously, she wandered to the second story window and peered out, seeing naught.

Deciding it was nothing, she turned to go back to her vanity, when a second sharp noise entered her ears. Whipping around, she saw naught, again.

Curious now, she walked to the window and gently opened it, peering out. The dim light barely illuminated the ground beneath her, where she could make out the form of someone on the ground.

"Hello fair maiden," he called up sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. Could not Lowell simply come up to visit? It was not too late. "Sir thou could simply request to come into the home."

The brunette beauty watched blond hair move back and forth, and she realized that his hair was down for once. "Thine father would be most upset for my visit at such a late hour."

"Then why did thou come in the first place?"

She could nearly hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "I wished to see thou. Our trip to the new shop was canceled yesterday so thou could have a lunch with Henry Krum."

Penelope's face dropped at the mention of her guest earlier. Henry Krum had little eyes that followed you everywhere, and seemed to see beneath what you were wearing. The tone of voice he used was rough and he dismissed any topic of conversation she tried to think up.

"Krum was nothing but horrible company," she said dismissively.

"But why is that, fair maiden?"

"Stop with that," she said, a smile gracing her features at his silly-talk. "Thou knows I dislike that phrase."

"But of course," the blond drawled. "We canst not continue to talk as we art, Penelope. Thine father will hear and cometh to see what thou is dost."

She frowned. "Yes, thou art right."

"Perhaps thou would climb down to speak with me?"

The girl laughed quietly. "Now thou art crazy! I will not climb down a stone wall."

"Perhaps I shall cometh up then?"

She stopped her laughter immediately and considered his words. He had scaled the side of her home once before, but there had been a bit of vines to grasp a hold of. Now the walls would be sleek and smooth. "Thou can not. The walls no longer have anything to hold on by."

He chuckled from below. "Thou dost not look at thine walls too often. The stone is uneven from centuries work. Tis easy to scale."

She scoffed. Now he was playing her. "Thou lies."

"Shall I prove thee wrong?"

The girl glanced around her room. The servants would be in bed, and her father and elder brother would not disturb her so late unless they heard the two conversing. But of course, they had done this once before, when her mother passed.

Turning back, she called down quietly, "If thou believes he canst dost so at all."

Even from above, she heard him scoff. "Go back to brushing thine hair woman. I will be up in naught a few minutes." She rolled her eyes and turned without response, deciding to slip into her nightwear and a respectable robe before he reached her floor, if at all.

She pulled on a pale blue nightdress, careful to not catch her hair in the top buttons. The fine, darker blue robe she pulled over that made her modest enough to speak with her fere. After finishing, she braided her hair and stepped from behind the screen to find Lowell lounging on one of her three chairs.

The girl gaped unbecomingly for a moment, but whipped the look off her face when he smirked. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at the cocky man before her.

"Now how did thou dost that?"

He laughed quietly. "I already told thee, Penelope." His hand extended and patted the chair beside him, asking her to cometh sit. She obliged, sitting beside him and crossing her legs daintily, looking away from him. "Tis troubling thou, is it?"

Her head stayed facing away. "Thou dost not know what he is speaking of."

The blond rolled his eyes and reached over to clasp her hand tightly. "Of course I do, Penelope. I dost know what today is."

The girl's head snapped around and met his eyes. "Thou know?"

He nodded solemnly. "Isaac told me earlier on when I saw him." Isaac was her older brother and only sibling.

Penelope's face crumbled a little bit. "I dost not want thou to know. Now thee will be worrying about me, when thou should not."

He frowned deeply. "Of course I should worry Penelope! Thou tis my best fere, after all."

She nodded solemnly. "I dost not think it would hurt so."

The blond watched her stray tears beginning to spill over, the ones that had been trapped in her tear ducts from the moment he mentioned it. Of course it would hurt her; who would not be hurt by it? Clasping her hand with the other, he brought both over towards him and kissed the knuckles. "Of course it hurts so, sucré. It would hurt anyone."

"I know," she sighed. "But I thought I would be okay. Now, I am not so certain. It hurts so much, Lowell." Her tears continued to come.

He reached out and traced a finger along her shoulder blade; such an intimate act that had not bothered her in a long time. Lowell knew how to be sweet to her, caring, compassionate when she needed him to be. Easing over she rested her head against his chest and softly cried.

The action caught him off guard. They rarely went so far as to touch this much, and the only other time had been the night her mother died. At the time he had been fully prepared for the contact, because such an awful thing had occurred. Now however, he had not realized that the woman's birthday would bring on this onslaught of emotions as well. He wrapped two comforting arms around her nonetheless.

He had no idea how long they sat there like that, but at some point he noticed the girl had fallen asleep. Needing to return to his own home, he picked up Penelope- surprised to find her so very light- and placed her on the large bed nearby. Pulling the covers up her body so that she was covered, he could only imagine what would be thought of him if anyone ever heard he had been up here at this hour, tucking someone who was not his wife or family, into bed.

Discarding the thought, Lowell turned and headed to the window, ready to make the dangerous trek back down the wall. Passing by the window, he spotted a ring. Golden, far too small to ever fit his fingers but dainty enough to fit hers. It was such a simple piece, that he hoped she would not mind its disappearance. Pocketing the ring, he climbed over the windowsill. She didn't need to know he had taken it.

The ring was not in his pocket because he planned to hawk it; he wanted something to remember her by when he lost her to someone else, later in life. For he knew, they would not be allowed to be together unless they ran away, and she could never do that to her family.

**Part 2: Troublesome Communications, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas** **Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

She twiddled her thumbs at the lunch table the following morning. Ron and Harry were both discussing some sort of prank they wanted to play, but she could not focus enough to be enthused. Her strange 'vision' from Malfoy had caused her a difficult sleep last night and the issue was still on her mind this morning. Today her back was to him, so she did not notice his staring eyes. Harry and Ron, engrossed in their conversation, didn't notice anything.

The vision had seemed so real, but it could mean nothing. Her family was full of muggles, so there would be no connection from the past. Besides, the repetitive dreams last night of that same wedding scene, slightly altered, proved she did not have a real memory of any event like that.

Right?

She wanted to scream. It was frustrating to think that Malfoy really had hurt her head, and now she had no idea what to do to get him back. His strange little "I'm going to give you a massive headache through the process of decoding a fake vision" game was not cool. She could not figure out how he had learned to conjure something so detailed like that from nothing, but she was determined to figure out what all of this meant and then get back at him for being such a bother.

She began pushing her food around on her plate, annoyed that she was so hung up on it. Her mind was elsewhere when Ron reached over and shook her arm gently. "Hermione?"

She finally glanced up again. "Yes Ron?"

He exchanged a glance with Harry. "We've been trying to get you to talk and you've completely ignored us. Are you sure you are alright?"

She knew he was referring to yesterday; her strange departure from potions was still unexplained, and although Harry and Ron had offered to beat the git up, she declined. She wasn't sure what they would be beating him up for… yet.

Their first hour was transfiguration, and Hermione departed a few minutes later to head to the class, ignoring the urge to look over and see if there was a blond spying on her like yesterday. She walked briskly from the hall, hoping to head to the library and investigate the vision for a few minutes before heading to class,- but Harry and Ron didn't know that.

_You're too hung up on this! It's just a prank; there's nothing to investigate. You are not at legilimency. You did not look into his mind… he pushed into yours? But, that doesn't exactly make sense… oh, now I have to go research! _

Turning a corner she heard hurried footsteps behind her and turned to face a redhead running after her. Ron's long strides brought him to her quickly. "Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his head shyly.

She cocked an eyebrow. _Oh dear, what's going on. _"Hi," she said, continuing on her way to the library with Ron at her side. She would need to get there either way, although the redhead looked like he would prefer to just stand in one spot.

"So Hermione," he said, looking off in the opposite direction of her. She studied him curiously as they walked. "I was wondering- I mean, would you like to go on a date with me for the Hogsmeade trip this weekend?"

That stopped her all together. Not only was this question coming from nowhere, but she had completely forgotten about the Hogsmeade weekend. Head duties would do that. It was completely unusual for students to be given a trip like this barely after school started back up, but they had done so to relieve some leftover tensions from the war. Students still had a hard time co-existing, and professor's probably hoped the change in atmosphere so early on would set the student body up for a friendlier school year. Hermione thought it was a load of rubbish.

But Ron's question was terrifying. His on-again-off-again relationship/fling with Lavender Brown was risky. Many people had been screwed over by the two for dating one or the other while they were "off-again".

Besides, she had been hurt by Lavender before and would not be again. "No Ronald," she said sharply, "I will not."

He frowned and grabbed her arm to stop her. "Is this about Lavender? Hermione, we are through-"

"You say that every few weeks! That's why no one will date the pair of you; it would be a waste of time. I will not be your fallback for a bit until you and that… girl come to terms with dating again."

"We're not getting back together; it's over for real this time-"

"For some reason Ron," she said, pushing her bag up her shoulder and removing his hand, "I don't believe that." She turned and walked briskly down the corridor, nearly to the library but now she would just have to head to transfiguration because of the delay. She needed those few extra minutes to locate some books. It would have to be done later.

And try as she may, she could not force the pain out of her chest. He hurt her the first time with Lavender in their sixth year, and now he did it all the time. Her crush was still there, but it had dwindled down to nearly nothing after watching the sickening couple parade around so much.

But knowing he saw her as a fallback was so much worse.

* * *

The blond boy had not gone to breakfast that morning, instead opting to sleep in. Fuck breakfast, he could locate a meal later. His dreams had been plagued by memories of her he could never forget, and he had spent a majority of the night flipping back and forth.

He had his second class of the day with Granger; Arithmancy. She was sitting at his side looking somewhere between angry and hurt. The part of him that knew her intimately wanted to reach over and comfort her, but the logical side of him that had to deal with the fact that they hated each other in this life kept to himself. She was already confused by him recently, it seemed.

When they were set to work in partners, she kept quietly to herself while the majority of the class began talking. The brunette would neither meet his eyes nor speak to him. After a few minutes he cleared his throat and she finally looked up.

"We are supposed to work together you know, Granger."

She straightened a bit. "Does that mean you need help then?"

He rolled his eyes. "Hardly, but the professor has been glaring at us for several minutes, so you may as well stop ignoring me and work with me."

She frowned but said nothing, just leaned a bit to gaze at his blank paper. She looked back skeptically. "Are you sure you just don't need help? This is the advanced class you know."

"I know what it is," he snapped, noticing then that her eyes were slightly red, like she had been crying before class. He frowned, wondering what had caused that.

After a few more minutes of arguing, they finally got to work. He even remained good and did not ask about her eyes or her departure the day before, and instead focused on their assignment. They were the first ones done. Satisfied with her work, she leaned back in her seat stretching.

He frowned and looked away, adverting his eyes. It reminded him too much of his Penelope, and if he planned on thinking about it, it would probably be best to not look at her, in case she toppled to the floor again.

_Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana, 1489, age 19_

_She stretched beside him on the blanket, shy eyes looking at the ground. His strong grip locked under her chin and forced the girl to look at him. "Dost not be ashamed," he whispered. "We shall be gone soon."_

"_Thou has found our way to leave?"_

_He nodded, leaning over to kiss her tenderly, her bare body separated from him by a sheet. He chuckled at this, for after what they had done, the sheet was useless. He had seen her and she had loved it. "Yes, for I could never send thee back to him."_

_She nodded, looking up into his eyes. "The wedding is only a fortnight away. I shall have to live with him soon, in our separate rooms. We shall have to depart before then."_

"_And we shall. Meet me on November 26, at the old gates by Lord Parkinson's home. The family tis gone until after winter. He shall take us into the next city from there, but be quick love. We canst not be late, else someone may see." _

_Penelope nodded, her dark curls fanned around her. "I shall be on time."_

"_Meet me at dusk."_

"_I shall," she replied. "I shall tell father that I am going to see Mary Collins for the night."_

_He smiled, kissing her. "Then I see thee in five days, my sweet."_

He shut off the memory. That was one of the most painful times to relive. That had been the series of events that led to both their deaths, but it was also his favorite memory. It was the closest he had ever gotten to the girl, in any lifetime. That was the only lifetime both parties had been in love, and he cherished it, for it may be the only time she would ever fall in love with him.

He sighed and relaxed in his chair, waiting for class to be over.

"Malfoy," Hermione said not a minute later. He inclined an eyebrow but barely turned his head to her. "What was the stunt you pulled yesterday in potions?"

"Excuse me?"

She glared. "That trick you did; the one with that silly vision. What was that- a way to distract me or something?"

His heart stopped cold as she spoke. _What have I done? _"What are you taking about Granger," he snapped instead.

The girl frowned. "Don't play stupid Malfoy; you know what I'm talking about."

_Yes I do. _"I have no bloody idea what you are implying."

She huffed. "Sure you don't- else you just refuse to tell me."

"Go with the latter Granger; it's closer to the truth."

"So you do know what I am talking about!"

The bell rang and he collected his things. "So what if I do?"

She hurried after him, both dropping their papers off to the teacher. "Stop playing around Malfoy, you're trick isn't funny. I've had a headache since then." _Why did I just admit that?_

_Yes, that happens. _He shrugged and headed off to where he was Blaise and Daphne standing. "Well, that's not my problem then."

"Malfoy," she hissed as he walked away. The brunette considered following him just then but declined; they had their next class together after all, and there would be nowhere for him to rush off to then.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said, walking up to her with an annoyed Ron. She ignored the sour redhead for the moment, opting to speak to her famous friend, while the other sulked.

* * *

After dinner, Hermione made her way up to the library like she had planned. Among the stacks of books she located seven that seemed the closest to what she was looking for, and began to read.

_Past lives can often affect who you will be in the future. A person who often sins and does little to help anyone may return as a poor person, who needs to find a better way of accepting things; a spoiled rotten child may return as an unhappy civilian who has to scrape to keep his/her home. Each path we take in the past can determine where we go in the future. _

_There are instances where strong connections from friends and family can cause one to return to the same sort of situation they have had before. You may encounter "ancestors" of people from your past, who are actually reincarnations of those former friends. _

_The act of reincarnation is not fully understood in-_

She shut the book and tossed it aside. That was doing her no good, as far as she could tell. She picked up another and began reading. The book was entitled "Reincarnation Facts and Resources", and although it really had nothing to do with visions and such, it had come when she flicked her wand, so it may have some sort of use.

It was a small section of a bigger novel, but the first part was like a question and answer sheet.

**What is Reincarnation?**

_Reincarnation is the concept that souls are continuously reborn in different bodies at different times and places. Many belief systems around the world embrace reincarnation, including Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Jainism, and a variety of New Age religions. Each religion professes different beliefs about the cause and purpose of reincarnation, but some facts remain consistent. In most every case, reincarnation is a natural and very important part of the development of a soul; it is the process of struggling against some negative force, such as desire or karma, toward a higher state of being; and it applies to all human beings, if not all living creatures._

**What do metempsychosis, the cycle of rebirth, and transmigration of the soul mean? Where do they come from?**

_Metempsychosis__,__also known as the_ _transmigration__of the soul__, is a concept from ancient Greek philosophy. It refers to the journey of the soul from one incarnation (fleshly host) to the next. The soul is released from the body by death and exists briefly in a pure spiritual state before returning to a new body. The__cycle of rebirth__refers to the continuous process of transmigration and rebirth that attends the history of every soul. Plato is considered the "father" of these beliefs in Western thought; however, they are prominent in many Eastern religious systems._

**Is there any evidence of reincarnation?**

_Reincarnation, like anything that takes place after death, is very difficult to study. The evidence of reincarnation comes from the study of incidents where people seem to remember places or people from a distant past. There is also déjà vu and the phenomenon of "old souls" – that is, people (including children) who conduct themselves with an aura of wisdom far beyond their years. Past-life regression therapy, including hypnosis and other methods, has purportedly been used to uncover memories and hidden psychological dynamics related to past lives. Purely scientific evidence is more scant. Some believers point to the laws of thermodynamics, which state that energy – perhaps even the energies of which a soul is made – can neither be created or destroyed, but must remain constant. Understood this way, the idea may support reincarnation._

**How can I know if my significant other and I knew each other in a past life?**

_Intuition helps here. If you and your significant other seem drawn to one another in a way that is uniquely compelling – beyond even "love at first sight" – and seem to "know" each other far longer than you have in this life, this may be considered a sign that you have met before. Lovers who have been together in previous lives are said to be harmonious and share an unspoken understanding. Their personalities tend to complement and complete one another, though they are__not__immune to the normal problems of relationships. Be aware that loves in past lives may have been stormy and troubled, and that being re-acquainted with a past lover is no guarantee of "perfect" happiness._

She frowned. This book seemed to be nothing but a thin binding of rubbish too. She flipped to the next section, which seemed only lightly more interesting. The second part was entitled "Evidence of Past Lives Being Remembered Through Visions". _I'm never going to get anywhere reading this nonsense! If anyone saw me reading this book I would be admitted to the Hospital Wing. _

**Past Regression - Jenny Cockell- The True story of a Woman Who has Lived Before. Mother of yesterday's Children**

She groaned at the title.

_Jenny Cockell was just an ordinary Northamptonshire housewife. She was also a mother of two children, But there was nothing ordinary about her. Over the next few years, she not only believed that she had lived before, as an Irish woman called Mary Sutton who was born in 1897, but she 'found' her children still living in Ireland._

_Her story starts just before her fourth birthday. She began to remember her__past life__in small snatches and pictures, and for a long time she never mentioned it to anybody because she believed that everybody had the same feelings and experiences. The most vivid of the memories was a very disturbing one. She dreamt of her own death. Or should I say Mary's death. She was also aware that Mary had been 35 years old and had just given birth to her eighth child. She could 'see' the hospital where it was happening, and she felt very strong feelings of guild and sorrow that she was leaving her children._

_The feelings never left her, and, after experiencing these memories for some time, she suddenly decided to draw a map where she believed these strange things had happened. She just knew that it was in Ireland, she was quoted as saying, ' I just felt so sad that I had left them, I realised then that I had to go back, so I got out a map, and I instinctively kept pointing to Ireland. After a while I was drawn to a place called Malahide. I just knew this was my home town'._

_But life got in the way, and she was still only a child. It was a few years later when Jenny got married and had her own children, that the feelings and memories surfaced again. Only this time they were she started to think about tracking down Mary's family in Ireland_.

_Jenny stated that if she were to trace the family, she wanted to make sure she did it right. No mistakes and not the smallest doubt. It had to be the right house, the right family, and even more importantly, get the names dates and children's names correct. So she consulted a hypnotist who dealt with regression therapy. The funny thing was, that Jenny was very much a sceptic, she didn't really believe iin anything like reincarnation or any other type of psychic phenomena. That I think, Is what makes this story so incredible. She felt uncomfortable with the whole story, and was afraid she was going to make a fool of herself. So after undergoing regression, and realising that this was not going to go away, she decided to make the trip to Ireland._

_Still consulting her maps that she had drawn, she took out a map of Ireland and studied in detail a real map of Malahide. To her surprise, she realised that it was very similar to the one she had drawn from memory. This gave her the final push to undertake the journey back in time, to see if she could understand, and find, the home and family that she had 'left' many years before._

_She arrived in Malahide, which is north of Dublin, and decided the best course of action would be to check out any records she could find in the church records._

_The records showed that there had been a Mary Sutton who had lived and died in Malahide, and her eight children had been left to various relatives, and some had been placed in orphanages. She decided that if she was going to do this properly she would get in touch with the local newspapers, and also write letters to all the churches, to find out as much as she could. By this time, any sort of embarrassment or doubt was quickly beginning to disappear. She knew in a way that nobody else could understand, that this was real._

_With the help of letters to foster homes and the historical societies, she realised that if this didn't work, nothing would._

Hermione slammed the book shut. This was useless! She was letting a blond git get the best of her, and now she had wasted a god hour reading nothing more then… fairytales, if one could even call this idiocy that. She could not believe she had just read that! And Merlin, this book didn't even have proper grammar! How did this author ever get published?

She returned every last book to its shelf, before picking up her bag and storming from the library. Oh, when she patrolled with that git tonight, they would have a lot to discuss.

The girl paused, checking the time. It was almost nine. _Merlin, I forgot about patrol!_

* * *

Draco was leaning against a pillar when Granger finally rounded a croner, looking highly annoyed. He wondered what exactly had the girl in a bad mood _now. _She always seemed to be in a bad mood to him.

"Granger," he said, nodding his head.

"Malfoy," she spat, not even pausing beside him. "We're patrolling together tonight,"

He frowned. "Excuse me? Granger that will take twice as-"

"We need to talk," she cut in, thoroughly annoyed after her useless reading. Malfoy was going to tell her the damn spell tonight if she had anything to say about it.

Malfoy blinked, slowly following. What was she going to ask?

* * *

**A/n: **Sorry a lot of this is mostly reading from Hermione's books, but I needed to get it out that she is very confused about the situation and its bugging her- and that she has no idea what she's looking for :) Let me know your thoughts and I'll have the next update up quick as possible! No .com's added so the site will allow!

First article from: datehookup

Second article from: nell-rose . hubpages


	4. The Questions

**A/n: **Thanks for all the amazing support! Keep it up! Also, there is a banner for this and another story on my facebook page. Go to my profile and find the link! Add me, I write on there as much as possible. Anyways, enjoy :)

Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

**Part 1: The Pain of Memory, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

His mind was spinning. She wanted to talk? After the strange encounter between the two just the other day, he worried about what she could want to know? Was she curious if he had placed a curse on her or something? Then again, it was the bookworm, so she could be thinking anything.

They had been walking for barely a minute when she spoke again. "What did you do to me Malfoy? Throw some dark spell on me or something?"

He inwardly groaned. His assumptions had been correct, and now the girl would likely pester him. "I didn't do anything to you," he replied, looking away from her pretty head, less then a foot in front of him. The bouncy curls were tempting.

She scoffed. "Oh don't play dumb Malfoy- I know you did something!"

The blond sighed. She had always been pesky in this life, but now it was truly irritating. He could recall just why he had hated the bushy-haired girl in his younger years, but couldn't force the same hate into his thoughts as before. Knowing what they had been through diminished everything that his father Lucius had taught to him. Instead of hating the Gryffindor for being pesky, he found it adorable.

He took a moment to study her in the light of his lit wand as she walked. Her hips swayed slightly as she walked, and she placed each foot properly in front of the other with ease. Her slender legs were being ruined by the school skirt, which she seemed to wear too big. He frowned, deciding that she would probably change to a sleeker look in a few years, after she had left this school. It would be later than normal for his Penelope, but then again, she was always a little different each time they came back to life. Since he had never really gotten the chance to personally observe her at close range in this life, he would take any chance he could get.

_If only she could remember…_

"Malfoy," she snapped, turning around. He stopped in front of her, expression blank. "Do you plan to answer me or are you going to be silent and brooding all night?"

He had completely forgotten she even asked- well, demanded- something. "Granger," he said in a tired tone, "I didn't do anything to you, so you can stop fishing around for an answer. I don't know what happened to you that day in potions, but it was quite comical to see you land on your arse like that."

She frowned. "Stop being a fool Malfoy, this game is getting old. I know you did something; I went and tried to research it for Merlin's sake!"

"You what," he asked, eyebrows raising skywards, suddenly perplexed.

She rolled her eyes, as though she were speaking to a child. They had stopped walking by now, and in the dim light of the corridor she pulled a book out from her ever obese book bag. She tossed the heavy volume at him, which he caught easily with one hand, before inspecting the title.

_"Reincarnation Facts and Resources" _he read, feeling his heart beat faster. _Merlin, how the bloody hell did she get this so right so fast? She's grown so much smarter though with each lifetime; I should've expected this! _

He kept his expression as neutral as possible, flipping the book open to read a random article. _Past Regression - Jenny Cockell- The True story of a Woman Who has Lived Before. Mother of yesterday's Children._Raising an eyebrow at the terrible sounding story, he began to read.

_Jenny Cockell was just an ordinary Northamptonshire housewife. She was also a mother of two children, But there was nothing ordinary about her. Over the next few years, she not only believed that she had lived before, as an Irish woman called Mary Sutton who was born in 1897, but she 'found' her children still living in Ireland._

_Her story starts just before her fourth birthday. She began to remember-_

He had a very strong urge to throw the book at her. What a load of rubbish! If she only knew how terribly wrong this 'Jenny Cockell' person was, but he couldn't just tell her that. Then she would ask questions, and he would say something and ruin everything. No, he would just lie and save everyone the trouble.

"I thought you read things with factual evidence," he drawled, shutting the book and handing it to her. "I have no idea what you are hinting at, but you may want to see the nurse Granger; you seem off."

She glared. So to read things like this she had to be going mental? Well, she had to admit it was fairly unusual for her, but still, it didn't mean something was wrong! "Shut up Malfoy," she finally said, shoving her book back into her bag. "The only reason I have this stupid book in the first place is because of you. You-" She cut herself off. Telling Malfoy she saw some woman in his head walking down the aisle in a wedding dress would probably really make him question her sanity. No, it probably wasn't a good idea to bring that up yet.

_Well, not until I can pin it on him, so he can't try and weasel his way out. _

_Unless of course, there never was anything to see to begin with…_

She stopped thinking. It came from his head- his eyes- so it wasn't like she could make it up. He had to at least know what was going on, but making him acknowledge this would be far harder. She doubted Malfoy would just instantly admit to something strange like that, so it would be up to her to figure out what he had done first, and then call him out. She smiled to herself; now she had a plan.

Malfoy was looking on at her strangely, eyebrow raised. She smiled sweetly at him. "Never mind, I'm just letting my thoughts run away," she said, ignoring the confused look on his face as she turned and walked on. Why couldn't she leave him a bit confused? He had her mind reeling.

* * *

That night Malfoy found himself thinking about Granger as he stripped off his clothes, ready to try and sleep. His trousers were far too tight, and he figured he would need to relieve himself before he could sleep.

The rest of their rounds had been silent, for she had apparently given up on getting him to answer. Instead, he had walked a few paces behind her so he could simply admire the girl Penelope had evolved into over the last few centuries. She was a bit taller now, no more then 5'6, but her curves had not suffered. She still had nice hips and great legs, and after spending years at school with her he was not the only male who noticed she had a generous chest beneath the heavy school robes she always wore; probably a bit bigger then Penelope's original body, but not by too much.

He threw his head back against the pillows and groaned. He had gone from thinking about Granger's body compared to Penelope's, to the only night he ever spent with her; how great she felt, how she squealed or laughed or moaned, and what she did or did not like. Standing, he headed to his bathroom for a nice, cold shower and some relief.

Having already stripped to his boxers, he turned the shower on full blast, charming it so the water would actually be cold (Hogwarts was charmed so the water never got cold unless desired) and removed the last article of clothing, his hard member jumping out to annoy him. Stepping in, he let the icy water pelt his body for many minutes.

At length, he reached for his still hard manhood when it refused to soften. Pumping his hand, he leaned his head back on the shower's tile, working to bring on the orgasm he desperately needed. It had been a long time since he had fantasized about his Penelope- or Penelope's _reincarnation_- but tonight he couldn't help himself. For some reason the sexual longing had been built from nothing, and the need to have her after so long had resurfaced. He hated that animal need, the need that could sometimes overpower the love in times when she was truly seductive, but it was human and sometimes he had to give into it.

He could remember the feel of her dainty, inexperienced hands on him, her jerky movements as she learned to move with him; her bright green eyes sparkling up at him in the dim light, first filled with pain, then wonder, then lust- everything that had brought them together, and broke them apart.

His balls tightened and he pumped harder, hoping the memories would just cease. He longed for thoughts of her that were not plagued with pain and guilt, but that would likely never come. He exhaled as the release came, but didn't register what his hand was doing now. He simply wanted to sleep, and hopefully forget about wanting her so badly; wanting her would only ever cause him more pain.

Returning to his bed a few minutes later, he fell back unhappily against the covers, wishing he could sleep without dreams. The potion for that lay just a few feet away but he refused to take any; the potion could become addicting quickly, and the withdrawals from that were devastating. No, it would be far less painful to just have eternal pain then physical pain too.

Closing his eyes, he waited for the memories to come of his first life. But they never did, and instead he saw a different part of his past beneath closed eyes.

_Omar Julian Malfoy and Annalisa Coralie Williams, 1642_

_Omar didn't want to be in that room. His mother Adare was arguing with everyone over every little thing for his younger sister's arranged marriage. He found it terribly ironic that she spent so much time searching for a man for her middle child, yet had not ever set him up with anyone. Saying he was jealous would be a lie, however. He could care less about having someone who picked whom he would marry, because he longed for the beautiful relic that was his best friend Annalisa. _

_His younger sisters, Emma and Shadow, were currently busying themselves upstairs with just what Emma should wear that night when she met with her future husband- whom she would not marry for another ten years, when she was nineteen. Omar was currently occupying a chair in the busy ballroom in the grand Manor. The place had been around for nearly two centuries, and it would be a few years still before he realized that he had slept in the same bedroom as a child in both his past lives as well. _

_Adare Malfoy was a beautiful woman who broke the family's tradition of blond hair. Her deep burgundy locks threw off many people who met her as 'Mrs. Malfoy', but had been passed down to Shadow, the youngest child. No one suspected that Shadow would die only seven years later by falling from a window at seventeen. Adare was rushing around in her fine robes, telling decorators where to place things. _

_Lucifer Malfoy sat upon a fine sofa near his only son, watching his wife rush to and fro to prepare for the event. Whenever something fell he would magically pick it back up with his wand, for fear his wife would collapse if something were amiss. She had been planning an event like this for two years, since Lucifer secretly banned her from arranging their son. He thought it best the heir to the Malfoy line chose his own life, although that fact remained unknown to the boy himself. _

"_Omar," he said at length to his son, "canst thou go and see where thou sisters are?"_

_He rolled his eyes, platinum blond hair sticking out in the room. Omar had inherited his hair from his grandfather Alastair, and remained the only family member of the five with the trademark Malfoy blond hair. His father and sister Emma both had a much darker mop on their heads. "They are upstairs, as expected."_

_His father turned and gave the boy a pointed look. "Thou seem to be in a bad mood boy. What troubles thee?"_

_Omar did not reply. He was simply upset that Annalisa could not attend the stupid party tonight, because her eldest brother Briar was bringing his bride to meet everyone. This put a damper on the already dreary day, and made the blond truly want to crawl under his covers and sleep through the drab party. But, his parents would have a fit and thus he was stuck in the lame space until whenever the party ended and young Emma left her groom-to-be-but-not-for-another-ten-years for her quarters. _

_His father took the silence as a bad sign. It was to no one's surprise that his son and Lauren's daughter Annalisa fancied one another, but that her mother did not want the girl to become involved with a Malfoy; they were notorious for being deeply involved in the dark arts, and the two women were not. His son would have to fight for her, but Lucifer feared his son would never realize this- and who would, at such a young age?_

_Instead of pestering Omar, Lucifer remained quiet. His son could brood all he wanted, but the girl would be around again tomorrow._

* * *

_The party was nearing an end when Omar finally decided he would join his sisters upstairs. Emma's bride was but a year her elder, yet he could not help but hate the boy. This was his younger sister the git was engaged to, and he would have a very hard time living if he messed up. But, it was not time to think about something so far away; he left the ballroom to find the staircase upstairs. Someone clearing their throat stopped him in his tracks. Glancing around, he spotted her._

_Annalisa stepped out into the dim light, smiling at him. For a girl of twelve, she was a bit on the short side. He was short as well, but he still had two inches on her. She walked up to him, cloak and dress a deep burgundy color that jumped off the light._

"_I thought thou had another event for the night," Omar said, raising an eyebrow at her._

_She smiled up at him. "Mother thought it twas a nice idea to stop and see thee's family." She gestured around her. "My brother's came also."_

_He expected as much. It was unusual enough for a group to stop by a party so late and they would never have allowed her to come alone. If they had stopped by though, they only intended to stay for a bit, so he only got a short bit of time with her. _

_He offered her his arm, and she took it gratefully, smiling at him as he led her into his father's study nearby, where the doors could be left open but offer the children some privacy to talk. "How was meeting thou brothers bride," he asked as they walked._

_Annalisa frowned and rolled her eyes. "A bore. She is nothing but a stuck up girl," she replied, brushing a stray hair from her face. _

_Omar chuckled. "They all are darling."_

_Surprised by his comment, she looked up at him. "Yes, they are," she replied with a smile. _

He awoke the next morning feeling just as tired as when he went to sleep. Dreaming of his life as a child was not nearly as painful as when he got older, and she was always taken away, but painful nonetheless. Sitting up he found he had a raging headache that could only be blamed on the dreams. When too powerful of a memory came back, his head would explode.

He wondered why that particular memory had decided to show itself last night. After his thoughts of Penelope, he had expected everything to be centered around her, but low and behold, he thought of Annalisa from his third lifetime. He wasn't quite sure why, but his mind was so over packed that he chose rarely to question things anymore.

With a yawn, he stood from bed and headed for his bathroom, thankful this morning he did not have any classes with her.

* * *

Hermione was frustrated. She had spent many hours the previous night reading through too many books in the library that brought her to a dead end. She was no closer to discovering what had happened in potions then she was before. Now half-awake, she sat at the Gryffindor table, only half listening to what the people around her were saying.

She kept glancing over at the Slytherin table, specifically to the blond mystery of a boy that sat at the table beside his friend Blaise. Maybe it would've been a smart idea to ask Malfoy just what had happened, but she still believed facts would help her. Seeing as every book she picked up made no sense at all, she had one final idea; she was going to have to look into his eyes again and see what happened.

But she wouldn't be able to do that until after lunch. They had no classes together, and she doubted that trying something in the hallway would be a good idea. No, she would have to wait till potions- which was after lunch today- to try again, and possibly startle Snape again.

On top of all of that, she was beginning to form a headache that got worse anytime she looked at the memory she had from Malfoy's head. It was puzzling really about why it hurt, but it did. She blamed it on the git, but wasn't sure quite yet how he had managed that one.

She set her head down on the table, searching for sleep. It was way too much work.

* * *

Blaise had been trying to catch Malfoy's attention for the past few minutes. Pansy and Daphne had been observing the pair, noting that Malfoy seemed to be completely gone and oblivious to everything around him. Each of them had tried to talk to him, and none had gotten a response. He had been playing with some eggs, and now the three would occasionally glance at him to make sure the blond was even awake.

Draco on the other hand was as far off as possible. He was reliving different snippets of memory, all that related to the younger years of each of his lifetimes. Only now did he realize how unhappy he got as he got older, and the memories returned. He seemed to have a decent life until then.

Someone probed him with a fork, and the blond finally looked up to see Blaise giving him an odd look. "You okay?"

He blinked once, then nodded to the Italian, "Fine."

And so breakfast passed.

**Part 2: Conversing, 1487 (Life one) age 17**

**Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana **

_The blond rolled his eyes and reached over to clasp her hand tightly. "Of course I do, Penelope. I dost know what today is."_

_The girl's head snapped around and met his eyes. "Thou know?"_

_He nodded solemnly. "Isaac told me earlier on when I saw him." Isaac was her older brother and only sibling._

_Penelope's face crumbled a little bit. "I dost not want thou to know. Now thee will be worrying about me, when thou should not."_

_He frowned deeply. "Of course I should worry Penelope! Thou tis my best fere, after all."_

_She nodded solemnly. "I dost not think it would hurt so."_

_The blond watched her stray tears beginning to spill over, the ones that had been trapped in her tear ducts from the moment he mentioned it. Of course it would hurt her; who would not be hurt by it? Clasping her hand with the other, he brought both over towards him and kissed the knuckles. "Of course it hurts so, sucré. It would hurt anyone."_

_"I know," she sighed. "But I thought I would be okay. Now, I am not so certain. It hurts so much, Lowell." Her tears continued to come._

_He reached out and traced a finger along her shoulder blade; such an intimate act that had not bothered her in a long time. Lowell knew how to be sweet to her, caring, compassionate when she needed him to be. Easing over she rested her head against his chest and softly cried._

_The action caught him off guard. They rarely went so far as to touch this much, and the only other time had been the night her mother died. At the time he had been fully prepared for the contact, because such an awful thing had occurred. Now however, he had not realized that the woman's birthday would bring on this onslaught of emotions as well. He wrapped two comforting arms around her nonetheless._

_He had no idea how long they sat there like that, but at some point he noticed the girl had fallen asleep. Needing to return to his own home, he picked up Penelope- surprised to find her so very light- and placed her on the large bed nearby. Pulling the covers up her body so that she was covered, he could only imagine what would be thought of him if anyone ever heard he had been up here at this hour, tucking someone who was not his wife or family, into bed._

_Discarding the thought, Lowell turned and headed to the window, ready to make the dangerous trek back down the wall. Passing by the window, he spotted a ring. Golden, far too small to ever fit his fingers but dainty enough to fit hers. It was such a simple piece, that he hoped she would not mind its disappearance. Pocketing the ring, he climbed over the windowsill. She didn't need to know he had taken it._

That was one of Lowell's best memories of her. She was so beautiful, so sweet, and now she was gone for the month for her brother's wedding. He found it lonely without his best friend, but this gave him time to reflect on where they stood. They were old enough now that he could court her on his own, and they could become married. He only worried that was not what she wanted.

His only other real friend, Gavin Zabini, was currently wandering around his home's grounds with Lowell; Gavin had his own bride, whom would be his wife in just a few months time. The two had been walking in silence for a while, each focused on their own problems. At length Gavin broke the silence.

"Hast thou thought anything of thou father's ball in a few weeks? I am certain he expects thee to have someone to bring with."

The blond pushed his hair back. "Nay, I have been ignoring the entire topic as much as I can. I truly do not wish to go."

Gavin nodded. He understood the place that Lowell was currently in; he wanted someone he wasn't certain wanted him in return. It was a difficult situation to be in, but he had done little to get himself out. When would the blond realize that and actually take action? If he waited too long, he could lose her. "But thee must."

"I know," he grumbled. The other boy could not help but chuckle at this. His thick Italian accent had decreased since he moved to England, but returning there every summer did little to help it. Sometimes Lowell wondered how he understood his friend at all. "But I canst not ask Penelope; she is gone at prior."

"Yes," Gavin replied, wondering whom he could throw his friends way in order to make him feel better. "Perhaps take Sarah's friend, Anna?"

Lowell rolled his eyes. "Nay, I would never take her. She cannot hold any conversation."

The Italian chuckled. "Very true."

* * *

Draco reflected on this memory. It fit a bit into his current life, where Blaise was his only real friend. The blond nearly chuckled at the irony that he was best friends with his old best friend's ancestor. After all, not everyone chose to live life again. And for some, there never was a choice to begin with.

He was wondering when he would ever get Granger, or if he would have to wait again until the next life. That thought hurt, but he knew it was possible. After all, it had been going on for a little over five centuries; it could go on for five more.

Sitting in potions he found himself again at Granger's side. She kept glancing over at him, and although he ignored her the best he could, he still found the action strange. She was yelling at him just yesterday and acting bipolar, so what had changed?

At length, Snape turned them over to work in partners, and he found himself catching glimpses of Granger looking at him. It took a moment for him to realize what was going on. _She must be trying to look into my eyes again._

That was a very strange idea. The bookworm was so curious she was willing to experience something again that she hadn't understood? Well, she had bothered to dive into a library full of myths on the entire topic of reincarnation and visions in order to figure this puzzle out, so perhaps it wasn't too strange that she was trying to catch his eye. He may not have meant to show her anything, but hell, if she was curious he would give her something to really think about.

Turning his head, he allowed her to look into his eyes and threw her into one of the strongest memories he had.

* * *

**A/n:** Let me know what you thought!


	5. Draco's Game

**A/n: **Hope you like it! I like this chapter the most I think :) I posted a day early in case work kills me tonight, that way you guys still get an update in a decent amount of time. And remember to review loves! I enjoy hearing what you think and what should happen. Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

**Part 1: Fun and Games, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

_Turning his head, he allowed her to look into his eyes and threw her into one of the strongest memories he had._

* * *

She's watching two young adults on a blanket in front of her, moonlight shining down on them. It looks like something straight out of those terrible romance movies muggles make, and Hermione is transfixed. The two people seem remarkably familiar.

Immediately she knows this is not a good situation. The pair are wearing very… old pieces of clothing, like something one would find in a 1400's novel; she is covered very modestly and he is dressed in strange, wizards robes. The only problem here is that the two are kissing rather heatedly, and she can only predict where this is going.

The male is blond, a dirtier shade of Malfoy's own. The woman has dark brown tresses, that have been pulled free from some sort of up do, and the man is leaning over her small frame, one hand on the other side of her body keeping his weight off of her. Hermione is now wondering just what she is looking at, and what sort of strange things Malfoy has sent her way now.

Then she sees him, and this is completely different from the last time their gazes met. Last time, she had seen everything as an observer, and alone. This time, she knows they can't see or hear her- else the two would've stopped- but this time Malfoy stands a few feet behind them, watching her with interest. She is thoroughly confused; what's going on?

The man leans away from the girl, cradling a hand to her face. "We must stop love," he whispers, barely loud enough for Hermione to hear. She steps closer, purposefully into his peripheral vision, but the man doesn't notice and her suspicions are confirmed; she is only an observer.

The woman's dainty hand comes up and rubs small circles on the bare flesh of his skin. "Please do not, Lowell. I dost not want thee to leave." Her hand moves to the back of his head and pulls, willing him to come back, but the blond removes her hand gently and kisses it.

"This is not what thou want," he whispers. "Thee dost not want to give thyself away to me."

Hermione watches the woman move so that both her hands are holding his one. "How dost thou know what I want? I want thee, Lowell, but thou push me away."

"I will not be thou husband," he reminds, frowning. "I will not be with thee soon; thou will have to go away. I will not make thou husband angry, I will not have thee hurt."

She sighs, and in the moonlight Granger notices the defeat there in her eyes. "I dost not wish to go with him! He tis an awful, awful man!"

"I know love," the man whispers, moving to rest his head against hers. "If I could but remove thee from his care, I would. But I cannot; thou father would never allow. He dost not want us together, Penelope."

The Penelope girl shrugs and sits up, forcing him to lean away. Hermione glances over at the blond, who she notices is watching her intently. She can't understand anything now, but hopes he removes her from this… whatever. The two seem very intimate, and the last thing she wants to see is the pair stripping down. She moves to stand beside the blond, but he moves in the opposite direction. She pauses, right in front of the two, and Malfoy smirks. That seems typical for the blond to simply place her in an awkward position- well, more so than before. Turning her attention back to what she is witnessing, she catches something the girl was saying.

"-thou. Dost not leave me alone with him Lowell, I cannot live like that! He will make me into something I am not, someone without spirit once he takes me away. Dost not let him take me," the girl pleads, throwing her head into the man's chest. The obvious surprise is evident on his face, but he moves to lie down and pulls her to him.

"I know what he shall do," he mutters into her hair, barely loud enough for Hermione to understand, "and I fear it love, I so fear it. But what is it thou want? If I take thou away, then it will not be the life thee deserves. And if I leave thou here, it tis not the life thee deserves either."

The girl pushed herself up so she was leaning over him. "Thou must ask? I want the life with thou Lowell, because tis the only life I can ever want."

He smiled, and then attacked her lips, flipping them so he was the one leaning again. "Whatever you say," he muttered between kisses.

Hermione herself thought the entire exchange was incredibly sweet, but as the blond began to run light fingers up and down the girl's side, she decided enough was enough. She would not be watching this. "Malfoy," she hissed, vaguely catching the attention of the platinum blond from the other side of the two. He was still grinning, watching her and only her. "Get us out of here!"

"Actually Granger, I don't think it's quite time to leave yet," he drawled, running elegant fingers through his hair. "Stay a while, watch the show."

She shook her head, attempting to stomp over to him, but he stepped away again, causing her to stop. Looking across at him, her eyes caught sight of the couple again; 'Lowell's' shirt was open, and the girl was running timid fingers over the defined chest. Hermione vaguely noticed that his skin was practically the same as Malfoy's, and that his eyes looked familiar too. An ancestor perhaps? Well, whatever it was, she didn't want to see the girl's upper body, which meant she needed to be removed from what she was seeing.

_How did I get out last time? I think I was so shocked that I forced myself out, but this time I'm too composed to do that. Fucking Malfoy! _

The girl lightly kissed his skin, but he was pushing her away. "Slowly love, slow. We have all night." She giggled, and he lifted her face to kiss her lips again. Turning her eyes from them, she looked up into the lighter gray ones of Malfoy, his lighter blond hair falling into his eyes.

_The similarities between them are scary. _"Malfoy," she called, ignoring the pair as the male slid the young woman's dress a bit off her shoulder to kiss the naked skin, "get us out of here."

He raised an eyebrow in the moonlight, and the way the light jumped off of his features was like something created by an artist- no matter how much she hated to admit it. Malfoy simply had an exquisite beauty that was entirely unfair, and he knew it. Merlin, the boy flaunted it as often as possible, and if the rays of light from the sun did half as much for his skin as the moon did, he would probably be forever on the ground, bombarded by crazy women- but never would it be her.

"Granger you are thick," he said in response, shaking his head. He wanted her to desperately make the connection in front of her, since he could not tell her without going against the rules set against him. He could however, apparently, show her the past. Now, if only the bloody girl would make the connection- smartest witch in the world! Pft!

But keeping her here would do no good. If she didn't recall anything from what she was seeing so far, then it was doubtful that she would remember anything else right now, which just meant he would probably freak her out with what happened next. He could only imagine the hard slap she would be delivering him when they got back.

She opened her mouth to reply, and he chose that moment to take them back into reality. Smirking, he nodded once to her and let the vision fade out.

* * *

She came back into the classroom, noticing that everyone was watching the teacher intently as he addressed something to all of them. She blinked, feeling a raging headache begin, and noticed that Malfoy immediately turned his head from her. She faced the front as well, feeling rather light-headed and confused. What did all of that mean?

A pale hand came to rest in front of her for a split second, then moved to reveal a small potion bottle, with neat writing on a piece of parchment. _Headache Draught. _Glancing skeptically at him, she realized he wasn't giving her the time of day. Rolling her eyes, she shoved the potion back onto his half of the desk and set her head down.

What had he shown her, except two people about to embark on dirty adventures with nothing but a blanket to hide from the world? They spoke a bit, she knew their names were Lowell and Penelope, but that was all. The difference this time though had been the presence of Malfoy, and it hadn't even been reassuring.

Well, she got what she had wanted; she got a second trip into… his mind? Or was it a trick and everything she saw was simply what he threw at her? Unfortunately, she felt more confused than before. Groaning softly, she willed the class to hurry and end, so she could consider things without Malfoy right there, watching her.

Who were those people, and why did he show her that? Or was it simply what he had been thinking of at the time? Did Malfoy really go around fantasizing about that stuff? She shuddered a bit, wondering just what kind of twisted mind he had. The vision was odd, and having him there was odder still. What was going on?

Turning her head a bit, she peered through her hair at Malfoy. He was looking forwards, ignoring her entirely. She wondered if that was just an act, or if he truly wasn't going to give whatever that had been a second thought. It was extremely irritating to think he could just turn his mind completely off from everything. _Urg_! Malfoy could be truly infuriating.

Finally sitting up, she noticed that Snape was still lecturing but staring at her intently. The direct look seemed to go unnoticed by the rest of the class, but Hermione felt a bit odd under his gaze. She noted that Malfoy shifted strangely closer to her, and that was odd.

_What in Merlin's beard is going on?_

**Part 2: Perfect Imbalance, 1537 (Life Two)**

**Dreu Antoine Malfoy (14) and Harmony Joan Potter (18)**

He turned his nose up, looking away from his parents. Were they mad? This was simply absurd! The woman was already signed off to another man, so what good did a boy four years younger than her do to drive her from the man? And furthermore, the two do not even like each other.

Harmony's parents were stingy and stiff, having never once allowed the young woman much time in the world outside of her home. Perhaps that is why Dreu was so hated by her; he could go almost anywhere he pleased, and he was only fourteen. Harmony had been betrothed at birth, cutting any ties that the war between families could be severed by a marriage later in life. Now, she was a new Potter; Alexander Potter was not an outstanding fellow, who often times got into trouble. Dreu's father, Kier, believed the woman would be killed in her own home through her husband's stupidity; Dreu readily agreed.

The feud between families went back generations ago, before the two families most well known members, Penelope and Lowell, died. He had read about the two in the family archives and found it fascinating how close the family had been to ending the war- had Penelope not been murdered and the death of Lowell just one day later. He understood the two had 'been in love', but it was a terrifying topic to consider when he himself was only five years younger then they had been. The two were often discussed, both in good and bad terms. Some hated the daredevil duo for tempting fate, and blamed that for the ends of their lives. Others- mostly the wives- simply believed it was truly tragic. He thought it was a little both.

Now Harmony was an entirely different story. She treated him like a child because he was younger- though quite a bit stronger and nearly _taller_ than her, he would like to point out- and often tried to send him on meaningless tasks to get him out of her hair when their mothers spoke to one another. Their mother's were the first two wives to ever get along in their families, but it was in secret. If the father's found out, well, Dreu was certain it would be worse for his mother then Harmony's mother, Lyra.

Dreu's mother, Calypso, was a petite woman he could almost tower over already. She was a sweet woman in public, but cowered away from her husband behind closed doors. The man took the Malfoy Family's ways of discipline way too seriously for his own good, and his wife took most of the blows. The sad thing was, he would only ever touch Dreu's mother when he and his brother, Edward, were not accounted for. The man had far worse treatments for his wife then his heirs.

Harmony's mother was a far more timid woman, and would probably be dead if she lived at Malfoy Manor. The woman could not go more than twenty minutes without hurting herself, and with Kier's tendency of throwing people around, the woman's neck would have broke before she could ever bear children.

But, she had given birth to Harmony, and that was truly disappointing. The girl was exceptionally beautiful, and likely bought the poor bastards heart who would marry her, but she was impossible to be friendly with. He could not wait until she married in some months and moved on from his life.

His parents however, would not budge. "Go and see her," his father drawled, smoking away as he spoke. "She needs someone to watch her this evening son, and tis thee who will do so. Thou only must remain until Alabaster Snape arrives, to escort her to the Potter's. She tis but lonely Dreu, and she is in need of a friend."

"We are not friends," he spat, rolling his eyes. "Never will be."

His father raised a delicate blond eyebrow, nearly the same as his mother's blond hair. They were the first Malfoy couple in the last two generations to both have the fair, blond hair, which was good; families had executed their children in the past for not living up to who they needed to be, and spouses with different colored hair endangered every offspring they bore. "It dost no matter if thou will never be friends with Harmony, the point is that thee will watch her as her parents are ill and she cannot be left unattended."

Dreu frowned; that sounded like the most confusing, largest lie he had heard in a while. "She would be fine without me."

Kier shrugged, unmoved. "It dost not matter; the carriage will await thou out front, and when Harmony leaves then thee can depart as well."

The young blond rolled his blue eyes. "If thee insist," he spat, turning and storming away. Did no one understand that the two hated each other completely? He would never understand people.

* * *

Harmony was just as hostile as ever. "Do not step into my room," she instructed, brushing her long black hair. Instead of obeying the oh-so-vain woman, he walked in and promptly sat on the nearest piece of furniture- a table.

The girl turned around, frowning. "Dost not sit there."

He chuckled, enjoying the annoyed look on her features. "I am but here to make sure thou is taken care of, even if I dost not care. I shall sit where I please."

She frowned, full lips taking on the pout with ease. If he had feelings for the girl, he may have liked the look. "I dost not need to be watched. I am capable of taking care of myself."

"Of course," he replied, picking up a nearby book, "for that is something thy father will approve of. Where did thou parents go off to?"

Turning in her chair, the raven haired beauty glared at him. "A dinner party, if thou must know, but Alabaster is late, so thou came to _watch _me." She threw her brush down and stood, making sure the black curls fell nicely around her. "I dost not need thou watching me, for nothing will happen. I am safe, so go." She made a shooing motion with her hand, and he rolled her eyes.

"Mature," he replied, shutting the book, "but thou does need protection. Thou magic is a bit stiff, since thou husband took thee wand away."

She paused, taken aback. "How did thee find that out," she snapped, placing delicate hands on her hips. That was supposedly a secret between the pair.

He clicked his tongue in response. "Thy future husband is but a drunk. He told Alabaster, whom told everyone. Many people know thou husband is not a pleasant man." He shrugged at the end, as though it was expected.

Harmony's face had paled a bit, but she would not back down from a boy she was four years older than. "Thy knows nothing. Alexander would not take from me."

"If thou is vain enough to believe that lie, then thee will never own anything long," he replied, looking skeptical. Obviously, she was denying what was right in front of her face, but Harmony Joan would never accept that her life would be a terrible one.

Her cheeks turned pink "Thou know nothing of Alexander! Thee is but a boy, and thou should stop speaking of things thou dost not understand."

He inclined an eyebrow. Did she think he was four? "I understand more then thou would like me to."

She opened her mouth to reply, but sharp knocking on the door alerted both that someone else was present. She quickly grabbed a shawl to cover the bare shoulders her dress did not cover and leaned against the bed frame, now ignoring him. "Come in," she called, and he noted that it was a rather dumb choice on her part to invite the uninvited guest into her room, when no one had announced anyone's arrival.

The door opened to reveal Alabaster Snape, a tall older gentleman who lost his wife nearly a year ago, due to some type of sickness; the details were not shared with the public. He was a tall man with violent dark hair that seemed a bit greasy, pale skin like Dreu's own, and green eyes. Personally, the Malfoy Family was not very fond of the Snape's, because the lot of them were known for being sneaky and manipulative. Then again, so were the Malfoy's.

"Mister Malfoy," he said, addressing the youngest son of Kier, "Lady Harmony," he continued, ignoring some formality. Dreu found that peculiar, considering Alabaster had only been back in London for roughly a month, since the death of his mother, and had not journeyed to Harmony's home once. In fact, Dreu was nearly certain he had not returned to his home since his departure from London ten years before. _It must simply be because Alabaster knows Harmony's father Michael so well. _

"Alabaster," she greeted kindly, flashing him a dazzling smile that Dreu thought was overdone. "How are thou?"

He smiled at her. "Doing much better my lady. Shall I get you to Lord Potter's home now?"

Harmony nodded, before turning to Dreu. "Thank thee ever so much for watching me while Lord Snape came to get me," she said, and he knew it was sugar-coated because there was another presence in the room. Had it been the two of them, she probably would have just tried to shoo him out again.

"Thou are welcome," he replied, playing along and bowing his head. He would just get back at her sometime. Pocketing his wand, he made his way from the room to take his leave.

Harmony's home was not extravagantly large like his own, but large enough. He was nearly to the front door when he reached around to pull his cloak's hood up over his head, and realized it was still upstairs, lying on Harmony's chair. Restraining a sigh, he turned and made his way back to her room, annoyed.

Halfway there he wondered why the two had yet to appear yet, since Harmony was ready to go. He opened her door without knocking, simply because he did not worry about what he would see.

That was a very stupid thing to do on his part, but helpful for her.

He stopped in the doorway, noticing the pretty head of Harmony being smothered by the elder man while she beat on his back, eyes wide. She was pressed into the wall, his heavier body keeping her there. In a single moment, Dreu had the man stupefied, and falling onto the floor.

He held eyes with the woman, who was now ruffled. Her assailant was now out of the way, but she looked terrified. The blond rolled his eyes. Now what would Potter have done if something happened to his bride, all because her wand was still in his grasp? Alexander would probably get an earful later.

"Thank thee," she said after a moment, attempting to straighten her robes. The voice came out shaky, but stronger then he may have expected. "I dost not expect that kind of behavior from him," she said in a quieter tone.

Dreu nodded, masking his emotions. He did not want to pity her, mostly because the girl was known for making rather stupid choices when it came to men, and he tried not to. Nothing had really happened, so she had nothing to really fear and he nothing to feel guilty about.

After a moment of silence, he picked up his cloak and nodded to the packed bag she had. "Thou can still take Alabaster's carriage if thee desires, or thou may ride with me, and I shall take thee to Alexander's home before returning to my own."

Harmony nodded, but did not immediately respond. Instead, she collected her items and came to stand in front of the young man, whom she could look directly in the eyes, but chose to look down at her own feet. "I would be most grateful if thou would accompany me to my groom's home," she replied, not looking up.

The gentleman in him could not say no, even though he did not really like the girl. "Of course," he replied kindly, flicking his wand at Alabaster so he was in a body bind. "I will send someone through in the morning to find him," he added, before offering her his arm. She took it gratefully, and perhaps grabbed a bit too tight, but he said nothing. Her opposite hand moved to make sure that the cloak was tight, and he took her bag. "To thy groom's home then."

* * *

Draco looked back at his godfather, whose eyes were still watching Granger's curiously. The man in front of him was very different from his ancestor, Alabaster, and although he felt the need to protect her from him, he knew it was faulty. Severus Snape was not that type of man; it was simple as that.

Watching his godfather now, he could almost see the gears turning. Was Snape trying to figure out what had been the cause of Granger's outburst some days ago in class? It was possible, and probably the reason, but Draco did not want too spend to much time thinking on it. Snape would never be a danger in this life.

The bell rang and Draco stood from his desk, not giving Granger a second glance as he turned and left. He knew she would have multiple things to ask him about, but he was in no mood to deal with the questions. In fact, he thought it might be entertaining to watch her puzzle over things. Who knew, he may even start confusing her just for the fun of it.

Problem was, why was he allowed to do this? There had to be some reason that he could project memories in this life, but not in others. Puzzled, he walked into the hall and bumped into Zabini, who he struck up conversation with.

Hermione on the other hand, was frustrated. He was obviously trying to ignore her, and he was doing a fine job. After she returned to class from wherever Malfoy had taken her, all he had done to even acknowledge her presence was shift closer, and that was probably just him getting comfortable. Confused, she hurried to try and catch the blond twit- and nearly had him- when Harry and Ron appeared at her side from nowhere, stopping her chase.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said kindly, beginning to walk the three of them out the door, in the opposite direction of Malfoy. Ron was standing on Harry's other side, probably trying to ignore her since she had told him there was no chance of them getting back together; the redhead still seemed put off. "Are you feeling alright," Harry continued, when she said nothing.

"What? Oh yes, fine," she replied, wondering why he even asked. Did she look ill?

"Good to hear," Harry replied, nudging Ron a bit as the ginger haired Weasley grumbled something she couldn't hear. "We were just worried about you. You and Malfoy zoned out on each other for a good ten minutes in class, everyone noticed."

Hermione blushed. Merlin, she hadn't considered how long that must have taken. The first time, she had seen very little, but this time had taken a bit, and she realized that it must have looked peculiar to the other students for two sworn enemies to be staring at each other. She could only imagine the gossip there would be by the time dinner came around.

"What exactly do people think that was about," she asked, keeping her voice even despite the awful things her mind was producing. Merlin, people were going to think they were an item or something!

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance, both hiding slight grins. "Well, Lavender told half our side of the room that you two are secretly madly in love."

Her eyes widened. "No! She didn't!" The two hurried nods confirmed that Brown had indeed done just that. "Oh, Merlin, now everyone will think that by no later then the end of class."

Potter chuckled, and patted her once on the arm. "Yes, probably."

**Part 3:A Plan, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

The rest of the day was complete chaos. Hermione and Draco shared one other class together, during which the males of the room gave the blond peculiar looks and the females glared daggers at Hermione. She had already heard some of the rumors spreading, and they were just as she had thought; rubbish. Oh, she dared Malfoy to do that again and cause more issues.

But while Hermione thought it was chaos because of the rumors, Malfoy was inwardly beaming. Despite the fact that these were lies people were spreading, he couldn't help but feel just a bit happy over it all. Thus far, people were thinking it was either a good or bad idea, with no middle ground. For some reason, this little spout of rumors made him feel good; it was nearly what he wanted, except the girl in question had no idea he did.

In fact, he had even begun to think up ways to use this to his advantage. He was forbidden to tell her outright anything, but showing her things in his mind- and creating more rumors- from places like across the hall or their tables in the Great Hall, would spread more rumors. When she came to confront him about things, well, let's just say he had an idea of what he wanted to do to her, and what he would actually say to her.

Sitting in his room that night, he pulled out the documentary he kept for times like this. In case this plan failed, or something happened to keep her from him in this life as well, he could refer back and try out this method again in case there was another time to.

The plan was simple; manipulate Granger with visions, carefully placed words and reactions, and make her remember her own memories. Yes, it could work, if he went about things very carefully.

Reaching over, he pulled out the paper that kept the lifetimes documented with names and death dates. He studied it twice before replacing the paper and resting his elbows on the chair, hands fisted as he rested his head against them.

This lifetime was slowly turning out differently. For once, there were levels of difference; he didn't hate her like she hated him, and she was not oblivious to everything from their past. Actually, she was more informed than ever before. With any luck- and he would need lots of luck- this could be the beginning of the end of his torment.

He traced a finger over Penelope's name on the paper, then Granger's. "Oh please Granger, remember me."


	6. Draco's Threat

**A/n: **Hope you like it! I like this chapter the most I think :)Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1: Messing with the Mind, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

It had been nearly four days since Malfoy messed with her head last. She had a lot of time over the weekend to think things over- and even got lucky when he had to exchange patrol times with a prefect for reasons unknown- but now she had to deal with him again. Tonight they were patrolling together, and she still had absolutely no idea what kind of game he was playing. What exactly was he showing her? Visions? Memories from other people? He wasn't doing anything in the traditional manner, and that kept throwing her in different directions. None of it could be real- right?

Her head hurt, and she gave into the raging headache as she continued to walk towards their meeting point. No matter what tonight brought on she would still be confused, simply because she doubted that stupid git would actually tell her anything. The idea of seeing something else only caused her to worry; those 'visions' made her stomach turn for some reason and it didn't sound too appealing to visit another one again- and definitely not if Malfoy tagged along to taunt her.

Turning the corner she spotted his blond hair, trudging up to meet him. The blond looked like he could use some rest, but other than that he seemed completely unfazed about showing her the things in his head. It bothered her that he could always ignore things so easily.

"Ready?" he asked, leaning away from the stone wall he had been resting against. She huffed and turned to head down the hall in the opposite direction, in no mood to deal with him. Withholding a groan, he followed.

Draco had not slept the last few days. He had been constructing a plan that skittered around the laws he had to abide by. If he told her everything outright, it would earn him a permanent death without question. Nothing ever worked in his favor, after all. Now he was seeing her alone for the first time in over a week, and he would have to use the nights patrol to his advantage; if he didn't, he wasn't sure when they would be alone for such a long amount of time again and it would delay everything. After centuries, he was growing tired of constant delays.

The memory he had shown her was the one memory he held closest to his heart. He loved it, because it was the one night his Penelope had really been his, in every shape and form. It had only happened once, and the next time he saw her she had died. The act itself brought on a lot of grueling events, but at the time it was bliss, and he could never forget that. Of course, Granger had wanted to hop out of the memory before anything good began- but really, would he have shown her that? It was something intimate, and it would mean the world to him if she could remember what really happened on her own. But, that would be a long time in the making. For now, he had to focus on the task at hand.

She was walking in front of him, and he watched the gentle sway of her hips again. This was bad, since the last time it caused a very uncomfortable hard on he had to deal with all by himself. Directing his eyes back up to the back of her head, he followed her with the light of his wand. Thankfully there were no longer Death Eater's running around this place, or he would be very worried about her. Granger might be a great witch, but she was also someone he loved, and he could not allow her in harms way again. Living through the war with the knowledge that she may not survive had nearly been too much for him.

Rounding a corner, they checked another hallway. He had no idea why she hadn't asked yet why he was following her, since patrols were usually done separately, but she said nothing and continued to do her job as though he wasn't there. He assumed that was her mindset, but that would never work; he needed to look into her eyes again.

He waited until they reached a staircase, where he could fake something semi-believable. Whispering a spell, he made one of the steps just below Granger slippery, and knew exactly when to grab a hold of her when she slipped. Startled, she whipped around and glared at him.

That was all he needed though. Placing a hand gently on the back of her head, he held her gaze just long enough to drag her back into his mind again.

* * *

_Rafe Dax Malfoy (16) and Hannelore Marie (21), 1861 _

_He took her hand gently and led her away from the group in the garden, towards an enclosed alcove where they could speak in private. She was five years his senior, but that did nothing to deter Rafe's confidence._

_Rafe Malfoy was a well-known character in England for being exceptionally cocky and extremely popular among the unmarried women. Blond hair and grey eyes, a dashing smile and charming words was all it took to make Rafe the most sought out bachelor in the country._

_Hannelore was a completely different story. She was considered rather plain looking, with nothing but a slim figure that lacked curves and dark brown curls that had very little body. The only remarkable thing about Hannelore was her emerald eyes, which sparkled wherever there was light. Very few people took a second look at the woman, something her husband was thankful for. Robert Hollingberry had married the girl three years prior in 1858, when she was only 18. The wedding was preplanned by both families, much to Hanna's displeasure. She had never really wanted to marry, but here she was, with a husband who only wanted an heir. _

_He led the other woman out towards the alcove, and that was when Hermione really got a good look at the pair. She had been listening to people talk, completely perturbed that Malfoy had brought her into another one of these things again, with yet another couple she did not recognize. The woman was obviously slightly older, although the man seemed to think highly of himself, and carried himself with an arrogant walk that was so like the Draco Malfoy she went to school with that it was creepy._

_Why were the two so similar? She watched the man lead the woman to a stone bench and sit beside her, a hand resting a bit high on her leg._

"_How dost married life treat thee," he hissed, squeezing her leg playfully. For a moment Hermione had thought that this man was angry, but as the woman laughed she thought that must not be the case. _

"_Terrible," she said, picking his hand up to kiss it. "I am not pregnant yet, so he tis not yet satisfied."_

_The blond man scoffed, and it again reminded Hermione of Malfoy. Glancing behind her she noted that he was near this time, and snatched at his wrist. Stupid git was standing too close. "Get me out of here right now!"_

_Draco didn't respond and just watched her, waiting for Hermione to pick up on the conversation before them. Obviously, she did, and whipped her head around. _

"_-different. But thou waited too long," she said, pulling away. "Tis too dangerous now, and I will not anger my husband."_

"_Thou husband would be so angry with thee if thou never married him," the blond spit bitterly. "That is thou fault, not mine."_

_The woman stood. "This is not my fault!"_

_The man in front of her chuckled. "Hanna, thee chose your husband," he said, standing and brushing off his robes, "thou mother did not. Only thou can be blamed for thou unhappy marriage."_

_She glared. "Thou is wrong Rafe. Thou is so wrong. I waited for thee to choose me, but thou is but a fool. Thou cannot see past the next woman thee escorts, and that tis not someone I wish to be with Rafe. I married because thou can never change."_

_This boy Rafe blinked, and Hermione watched first the confusion then the pain appear on his face. For whatever reason this girl Hanna's words cut deeply. He opened his mouth to say something, and then snapped it shut again and turned away from her. "Then that is my fault Hanna, and I am sorry." He started to walk away, but the woman caught his arm._

"_Where is thee going? We are not yet finished here."_

_He pulled his arm away, and took her hand instead, kissing the back of her hand gently. "I never knew thou felt like thee did Hanna, and I am sorry. I hope thee finds happiness with thou husband."_

_Hannelore opened her mouth to respond, but the blond man turned away and rushed off. The woman waited a moment before resuming her place on the bench, placing her head against her hands. Hermione half expected her to cry, but she merely ran her fingers over her face before resting her chin against her fists._

_Hermione turned back, her interest gone. Obviously whatever this was had ended, and Malfoy needed to take her away now like last time. "What are you waiting for? We're done here."_

_He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"_

"_Of course I'm sure," she snapped, just before another figure rushed into the alcove. This man was someone who didn't look anything like the two in the last few visions she had seen. The woman in each vision always had similar features, as did the man to the other men in Malfoy's mind. This one however, was a different story._

_He was squirrely first off, like he had seen one too many drinks and had begun to shrivel. His eyes were a bit too close, and his bare arms bore unattractive scars, like someone had just started to hack at him. On top of that he really wasn't anything to look at. He had long greasy looking hair, and unusual brownish-red eyes. _

_The first thing he did was jerk the woman up. His grip on her was obviously a bit tight, but all she did was firmly press her lips together. "What are you doing in here," he growled, getting in her face._

"_I was merely having a conversation," she replied in a tight voice._

"_This him," he hissed. "I told you," he said, shaking her, "that Malfoy heir is bad news. I told you to stay away from the little bastard."_

"_I was talking to a friend," she replied, shaking her head. The next moment his hand connected with the side of her face, and she stumbled. Hermione found herself grinding her teeth, and now touching a ginger spot on the side of her face- in the same place this man just hit Hanna. She glanced back at Malfoy. What was going on?_

_But Draco would not meet her eyes if she was suddenly feeling pain in her cheek. He suddenly had a very bad feeling in his stomach that he should be ripping her right out of there, but wanted her to see everything. The urge to reach out and hold her now was there, and he found himself watching her back instead of what he brought her to see. _

_This man was shaking her now, and Hanna was gripping his arms asking him to calm down. When he raised his hand a second time however, he ended up blasted backwards- through the form of Hermione who glared back at Malfoy, feeling very much like a ghost- and into the far stone wall. The form did not show himself- or herself- but a spell found the wand trapped within this man's robes and threw it in Hanna's direction. It landed at her feet and she glanced around wildly before snatching it up. _

_Hanna backed away, glancing around. She had an idea who had helped her out, but did not care to stay around and make sure she was correct. If she was not right, whoever helped her would have words about her husband and her marriage, and she did not want to hear any of it. He would be angry later, but she could handle him with a wand, easy. Quickly shoving it into her robes, she turned and calmly left the alcove and the man who was still out cold. _

_Hermione turned and grabbed Malfoy's wrist again. She was done with this. But before she could even yell at him to get her out of there, the scenery was already fading, and she could feel herself being pulled back into her real body._

* * *

The problem with returning to her body though, was Malfoy was still firmly holding her so she wouldn't fall. He was still holding the back of her head and her body was bent back a bit, as though he had dipped her. Scrambling from his grip, she slipped on the steps but was just able to save herself from falling down another five feet.

Her cheek still burned a bit, and her hand reached up to touch the sensitive skin. Merlin, it felt like someone really had hit her. But, nothing had happened to her- not really. She had been pulled into some sort of vision Malfoy had, but other then that nothing happened. The male- _Rafe, or was that the other one?_- had hit her, and yet she felt it? That made no sense, but it did make her think. What the hell was Malfoy doing to her? She whipped her head around to look at him, but he was staring at her in awe.

"What," she asked at length, the pain in her cheek diminishing. His eyes were practically bulging from his head. He extended a hand to touch her cheek but she smacked it away. "What's wrong with you," she tried again, watching him. He looked both awestruck and horrified.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, closing his eyes. He wanted to hit himself, but she was probably already lost enough. "I'm so sorry," he said again, eyes scrunching up. Hermione didn't quite know what to make of that, and moved to poke him with her wand when he spun away. Surprised, her hand remained suspended in the air.

"What are you going on about Malfoy," she asked slowly, uncertain if he was apologizing for bringing her into the vision or for what she saw.

He just shook his head, remaining facing away. "I'm sorry for only being able to remind you of the bad," he said tightly, before climbing the stairs and leaving her in the dark.

She whispered the spell and her own wand lit up once he disappeared. Not only were their patrols not done, but he had left her with more questions then answers now, and that was annoying. What was his problem anyways? He was the one toying with her mind, after all. So why did he shy away when a girl got hit in one of them?

_Why did it feel like the man hit me?_

**Part 2: Remorse and Reminders, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

Draco rushed to his room, slamming the portrait when he finally got there. He thought his heart was going to jump out of his throat, and perhaps his brain would follow. What the fuck had that been? One moment Hermione's prior self Hannelore is being hit by her alleged husband, Robert Hollingberry, and the next moment there's a blistering mark on both women's cheeks? How did a mark that was made on Hanna end up on Hermione, her reincarnated self?

He flopped onto his bed. It made no sense. Merlin, he had shown her other things, so why did this one reflect on her? Why did it have to be a bruising hit that replicated on Hermione's cheek, instead of a kiss or something? How did that even happen?

The blond took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Of course something like this would be what clicked into her mind first, but he was uncertain why exactly. _It would make sense, if only because it is a reminder of her first death that started this- but that wouldn't be a reasonable explanation as to why she only remembers that. This is my punishment to remember since I let her die, so perhaps she will never be able to remember the good things on her own. Perhaps this is a trick, and it'll never be over-_

He stopped thinking. No, that couldn't be the answer. He couldn't be stuck this way forever- he refused to believe that. If Granger was able to remember anything- even a slap- then that was better than nothing. It was something to build on, something to remember himself. Strong things that she had hated in her past lives seemed to affect her most in this life. Considering he had only slept with her once in one life, that explained why she did not remember that and it did not bring on a reaction- _and possibly because I removed her from that memory before anything really started. _But as for the wedding, he had no real reason to understand why it didn't really bring on any memories, because those two marriages of hers he had attended seemed to make her blissfully happy. They should bring on memories or something, right?

But was the red mark a memory, or a telltale sign of lives already over? _Never mind this bullocks, my head hurts. _Ignoring all the other questions he couldn't even put into questions that made sense, he stood and stripped down, ready to shower.

_Perhaps it will clear my mind a bit._

* * *

The next morning Hermione was practically falling asleep at the breakfast table. The people around her were gazing on with critical looks, but she was so lost in a haze of almost no sleep that she didn't even notice. In fact, she had been trying to ignore the scarce rumors circulating about her and Malfoy since their long staring contest in class a few days back. She had been up the entire night after all, thinking.

What had Malfoy been showing her- and why, if only for a moment, had it seemed nearly real? She didn't understand, nor did she want to understand why her cheek stung the exact moment that man- whom she had concluded sometime in the night was not Rafe but the woman's husband, whatever his name may be- had hit Hanna. It had caused a headache in seconds, and the short vision had kept her awake until nearly dawn.

Why did Malfoy have to do this to her? And why did the things he showed her have to seem so intriguing? If it made sense, if she could tell you exactly what he was doing and how he was going it, she wouldn't give it a second thought. But, she didn't know and that bothered her severely. It would be quite rewarding to understand Malfoy's little game and understand how to play back.

_Now if only I could figure this out… _Her thoughts trailed off again as she snuggled into the folds of her arms, desperately wishing for sleep to take her. Now if only Ron did not say something every three minutes, then perhaps she would be able to catch a few Z's, but no- he had to make sure every rumor about her and Malfoy was utter gossip and nothing more.

Someone poked her in the side, and she glanced up to see Harry. "Ready for Transfiguration?"

_Oh bollocks. _"My book is upstairs," she grumbled, closing her eyes again, "so apparently I'm not."

Harry's eyes grew wide. _"You _forgot a textbook," he asked in utter disbelief.

She scoffed and raised her head up a bit, looking at him again. "Well yes. As unlikely as it may seem, I do actually forget my books for class sometimes," she remarked sarcastically.

The raven-haired boy rose up his hands in surrender, "I didn't mean anything by it."

She smiled lightly and stood, ignoring the tiredness in her body. "I'll just go get it before class," she said, heading off.

"I'll come with," Ron called, getting up to follow her. She paused at the end of the table to wait for him, although she didn't really want to. She had wanted a few minutes alone before she went to class and had to deal with Malfoy, but apparently that plan was out. He reached her and they began to walk.

The first bit of the walk was quiet, until Ron opened his mouth. "Are you sure nothing is going on between you and Malfoy?"

Hermione frowned, having heard that sentence four times from him that morning and multiple times by classmates the last few days. It was becoming tiresome. "I think I would have to actually like the ferret for something to be going on," she huffed.

"Are you sure? You two seemed-"

"Ronald," she snapped, turning to him and placing her hands on her hips, "if you bring this up one more time I swear I will hex you so you will be stuck with a curly pink pig tail for a week like Hagrid did to Harry's cousin Dudley once," she threatened.

That seemed to shut him up. "Alright, alright," he relented, shoving his hands into his pockets. It was quiet again until they reached her door. "You couldn't come up with something more creative than a pig's tail?"

Hermione, who had been ready to open her door, turned and smirked. "It's actually quite original and creative Ronald," she said, pulling out her wand. "You see, you begin with a tail, and each time you ask me about Malfoy and myself being together, another part of you automatically becomes part pig."

He paled. "You never mentioned that."

Grinning, she shoved her portrait door open. "I didn't think I would need to."

And from across the hall, a pair of silver-grey eyes watched the duo through nothing but slits. Concealed at the top of a short staircase, he had gone unnoticed, but now, he wished he were just a bit closer, so at least he could hex the Ginger. Turning, he stomped back up the way he had come.

After all, there were reasons why Granger had never once married a Weasley in her past lives.

* * *

By lunch, Hermione had come up with the best course of action to take against her Malfoy problem; she was going to take notes. After all, what do bookworms do best? So that lunch period found the Gryffindor in her favorite spot in the library, taking notes on everything she had seen, noted, noticed, felt and observed in the three visions she had seen from Malfoy.

So far, she had five scrolls of parchment on everything she could come up with, and she still had no idea what she should think of everything. Tapping her fingers against the wood of the desk, she wondered when Malfoy would strike again. So far he had gone after her in only two places, but who was to say he wouldn't try elsewhere? That sent her thoughts spiraling; he could get her in class or even the Great Hall! It seemed so long as they made eye contact for a few seconds he could drag her into any vision he pleased, and that could be good or bad. Good, because she could only learn more by going into his visions, or asking him questions- and the questions part wasn't productive, so that really didn't do her any good to begin with. But it was bad because he could chose when to send her into those things, and she didn't seem to have any choice in the matter.

Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she decided to go find the librarian. This place had far-fetched ideas when it came to this topic, but maybe there would be a book that told her how to keep herself out of visions? _It's unlikely, but really, how else am I going to know?_

* * *

Malfoy was headed to his rooms before dinner that night when he rounded a corner and nearly barreled into the ginger Gryffindor coming down the hall. "Watch it Weasley," he sneered, straightening his impeccable robes that Ron had never touched.

Ron scoffed. "Get over yourself Ferret, nothing can make you look more revolting." He made to walk past the blond but stopped at his side instead. "Stay away from Hermione."

The blond raised an eyebrow. "Is that a threat?"

"Only if it needs to be," the redhead replied, leaning into Malfoy's space. "I saw the way you looked at her in class and trust me, she's not interested. She doesn't need a prick like you chasing after her."

"And I'm sure she wants you chasing her," the blond countered, "with your other girlfriend always looming in the background. Really Weasel, you need to either drop that girl or continue dating her, because your repeated break ups really get on my nerves. I hate finding your girl toy in the hallways and having to listen to her. Do you know how many girls I have sacrificed to her horrible voice just so I can be on my way?"

Ron growled. "Don't talk about Lavender like that."

"Is that her name? That's truly unfortunate to be named after a flower."

The redhead reached for his wand, but Malfoy just clicked his tongue. "Hexing Head Boy? That should get you a decent amount of detentions." He touched the tip of his own wand but didn't even bother to draw it. The redhead stopped his movements, if only because Snape had him in detention for the rest of the week as it was. He didn't need anything more to take up his night.

"Now here's my warning," Draco continued, leaning closer to him. "_You _stay away from Granger."

* * *

**A/n: **Oh dear, we're threatening each other. I bet Ron's poor head is exploding! Review? :) And sorry for the late update! Work caught up with me and I didn't get to this in time yesterday to post… my bad!


	7. Draco's Wives

**A/n: **Hope you like it! This chapter has a lot of looks into their past lives together, but they circulate more around his life then interacting with Hermione. Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

Check me out on Facebook! The link is on my profile!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1: Consider, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

It had been roughly six days since Draco sent Ron's brain reeling, and now that there had been time for his threat to settle in, tension between the two had mounted. If their friends noticed they didn't say anything, but the two would constantly glance between Hermione and each other. Obviously, Ron had no idea what to make of things, and Malfoy was curious about what he would do now that he knew something was up.

But nothing happened. The days passed, and all that happened was lessons. The two weren't necessarily avoiding each other; they just hadn't spoken since the threat was administered. What was running through each of their minds was secret to everyone save themselves.

But for Hermione, tension was nothing. Her dreams were plagued with scattered images of what Malfoy had shown her, and she had yet to make a connection to any of them. What was she missing? Was there anything plainly obvious about what he had been showing her, or was she really that in the dark? Whatever reason there was that she had yet to connect anything, it was frustrating. What could any of that mean.

She had tried to confront Malfoy twice about the topic, and both times he had blown her off. It was becoming a rather annoying matter, and it wasn't as if she could divulge information to her friends. Harry and Ron would instantly become their ever-protective selves and go and interrogate Malfoy, and then he would be sure to say nothing. Why oh why would he tell them something anyways? If she told her friends, they would be overly protective or think she had lost her marbles. No, that was out of the question.

Besides, Ron had been irritable the last few days. With a sigh, Hermione packed up the objects she had brought with her that night to the library and began to head out. Unfortunately for her, her bag ripped and the contents spilled onto the floor just outside of the library's entrance. Groaning, she stooped to pick up the discarded items, never once noticing the approaching figure.

Before she knew what was happening, a book was being shoved in her face. Eyes snapping up, she met the cool disconnected eyes of one Draco Malfoy. _The one bloody person I could not stand seeing tonight… just her luck. _

She snatched the book away, shoving it into her bag with the others. "Something I can help you with Malfoy?"

_A multitude of things actually. _"Does it seem like you can? I was merely returning the book you dropped Granger; that doesn't mean I'm here to be a bother."

"You're always a bother," she muttered, standing as she swung her bag back over her shoulder. "But I'm sure you are aware of that."

"Quite," he replied, moving to pass her. Stopping to speak had been a mistake, and it had sent his mind swimming again. But unfortunately, she didn't seem done.

"Are you ever going to explain," she called, crossing her arms behind him. He didn't turn to see her stance, but knew she was waiting, expecting an answer like the stupid stuck up girl she really was. _But she's not stuck up, not all the time…_

He fought off the notion to shake his head as he removed the thought. Merlin, his mind might be in wonderland, thinking about her that way, but he couldn't let it wander like that. Not when he was talking with her and the urge to forget she hated him so much was strong- it was almost overpowering at times, to the point where he wanted to kiss her.

Masking his face like usual, he glared. "Why would I do that?" he said, not turning to look at her, "That would take the fun out of everything."

"You think this is fun," she hissed, storming up to his other side, so they were face to face. "There is nothing _fun _about this entire situation!"

_You're right, there isn't. _The blond shrugged, before reaching a hand up and patting her cheek. "Well, not for you anyways, Granger."

She looked completely thrown by his touch, and he took the opportunity to slip past her and continue down the hall. Merlin, she was getting too close to him, and he had learned after six centuries that it was harder to control his emotions the more connected they got. If she kept bothering him, questioning him, it would likely become as big of a bloody issue as the last time they lived together, and Merlin- that had been a disaster.

Thankfully, she didn't seem to be following him, and he hurried off to his rooms, hoping to put as much space between them as possible.

_I doubt I will be sleeping well tonight._

**Part 2: Regrets of Life, 1760 (Life Four)**

**Damian P`ere Malfoy (27) and Rivkah Tabitha Clayworth (30)**

_Damian looked on at the three children before him. His eldest son, Cepheus, had grown into himself and at the mere age of ten was already trying to act as mature as his father. It was endearing. _

_The other two children had both been brought into the world during the last ten years, since the last time he saw Rivkah. His second born, Evander, looked on at his baby sister with disdain. The boy himself was barely six, but the youngest and only female child, was but two. Her name was Aurora, and she was currently trying to chew on something. Gingerly, Damian took the object from his daughter and lifted her up. _

_His wife sat on the couch, gingerly holding her eldest son's hand. Damian looked on at his wife- the woman he could never really bring himself to love- and felt a pang of remorse. Gemma Flint- now Malfoy- had done nothing but try to be good to him for years. Had she loved him, when he didn't love her? The blond wasn't certain of the answer, just that he had cheated her out of a happy marriage, and it was too late to fix that. Gemma had caught some sort of illness, and was slowly dying before his eyes. He had cheated her out of a happy life, and now she would die with her only true loves being the children she bore._

_It wasn't fair to her, but there was nothing he could do to take anything back. All he could do was concentrate on her degrading health, and hope that she passed when the children were not home. He didn't want them to see that._

_The problem was, they didn't really know what was going on. They knew their mother was very sick, and couldn't play with them anymore. The shine in her hair was absent and she coughed often. It pained him to watch her hurt, and the boys cry because their mother was unwell. His son's were not stupid however, and you could see it in their eyes that they feared something. Evander might be too young to understand, but Cepheus was not. The worry was evident in his son's eyes._

_Too bad he couldn't help them more. "Boys," he said, not bothering to hide the tiredness in his voice, "off to bed. Thou mother needs to rest." He glanced over at the maid, who had become more and more anxious about Gemma everyday. "Take Aurora up and settle her in," he commanded, waiting for the woman to take his only daughter. She did without question, and ushered the boys away as she left. He waited for their footsteps to grow faint before he approached his wife. _

_He sat carefully on the sofa she was settled on, cupping her face lightly. "How dost thou feel," he asked, stroking her cheek. He tried to be tender, he tried to be nice. He wanted to make her feel as well as she could, as time dwindled away. When the best Healer in London tells you there is nothing he can do, you are truly in a dead-end situation. _

_Gemma smiled tightly up at him, her face crinkled in pain. "Better. Cepheus speaks of Aurora learning to walk. I am pleased."_

_He inwardly screamed. Her child had been padding along on the floor for nearly two days, and she hadn't noticed? Granted, she wasn't awake often- but still. She was missing the things he knew she adored about their children's early years of life._

_Leaning forwards, he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. He wanted to encompass this poor woman in his arms, and take away her pain. Every day he was watching her growing closer to death, and he doubted she would even be able to leave the bedroom by tomorrow, perhaps the day after. He didn't want to let the mother of his children die- and such a pleasant woman at that- but there was nothing he could even do, and the guilt of that fact was slowly eating him alive. _

"_I shall take thee upstairs," he whispered, moving to pick her up and cradle her against him. He knew this movement often made her sick, but she was resistant to staying in bed. She was trying to act like things were okay, like she was okay when she wasn't. Despite everything, she wanted to be a part of her children's lives, and she was certain that couldn't happen from her bedroom. _

_Climbing the stairs, he bit his lip. Her body was frail, her hair limp, and her voice hoarse half the time. As he moved, he had to continually blink. Time was dwindling away on her life, and all he could do was watch. He had never loved her, but for a moment he wished he had lied better. _

_He wished he had given her more happy memories to replay in her mind. Guilt clouding his chest, he shut off his train of thought and continued walking, hoping she didn't suffer like this much longer._

* * *

_Cepheus cried the hardest in Damian's opinion. The decline of his wife's health had rapidly sped up after that night, and it hadn't been long after that she was cold one morning in his bed. He hadn't cried no- for if Damian cried then his children would truly be at a loss- but he was mourning his wife's death in the proper way any man should; he was sad. _

_The funeral was a short event, with two of his children too young to understand, and the third gripping at him like the world had fallen to pieces. In the eyes of a ten year old, it probably had. _

_He stared at the spot she had been buried long after she had been laid to rest. His marriage had been shorter than expected; only thirteen years, but looking at the three people around him he bit his cheek until it bled. His fucking father had gotten what he wanted- grandchildren who were mixed with the Flint family; how very twisted that was, that his father, Raiquen, got the most out of that marriage._

_But, Raiquen Malfoy was nothing but a bastard._

_It wasn't until later that night, when the four Malfoy's had returned home that she made an appearance. And she, was the absolute last person he ever expected to see at his Manor's door. She had not been around in a long time._

"_Rivkah," he said, forgetting formality. She stood in his entranceway, having been let in by the butler. In her arms she carried a baby, obviously younger then Aurora. He had not seen this woman in nine years. "What are thou doing here?"_

_The woman adjusted the child in her arms nervously, looking down. "I heard about thou wife, I came to pay my respects."_

_He thought it was rather curious that her husband Robert was nowhere to be found, nor the beauty of a daughter he had often heard his own son speaking of. "Thank you," he said curtly, unsure how to deal with the situation. She was so close, but so far away. "It is difficult."_

_She nodded understandingly. "I can only imagine…" her voice trailed off._

_He fought the urge to fidget. This meeting was nothing like his soul hoped for. He wanted to kiss her, and to smile at her arrival, but both things would be entirely inappropriate, so he simply stood there, unsure what to say. His eyes landed on the child in her arms. "And this is?" _

_The woman glanced down and smiled. "My son, Talon."_

_He nodded politely, fighting the urge to vomit. Merlin, the two had another child… that made his stomach twist into knots. "He has thou eyes," he said instead._

_Rivkah nodded, smiling. "He dost." Brushing back a strand of loose hair, she met his eyes. "I should be getting back outside. My husband is waiting for me; we stopped by on our way through town," she said, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. The action was so sudden his heart practically jumped from his chest. "It shall get better Damian."_

_He wanted to scream that she had no idea what she was talking about, given that she still had a healthy- if not aggravating- husband, but restrained. She had touched his shoulder, and the physical contact was almost too much. "I know."_

_Smiling, the woman nodded and they said their farewells. As she walked back outside, he called after her, watching his butler walk her to her carriage, "Thou should remind thee husband it is improper for a lady to wander alone in the dark!"_

_Her head whipped around to stare at him, but she didn't reply. Their eyes met for a moment, and for that brief spanse of time he felt more connected to a woman then he had during his entire marriage with Gemma. It made him feel like a monster._

_Shutting the Manor's door, he turned and excused himself to his room, never once looking at anyone; there was too much guilt for him to meet anyone's eyes._

_He loved Rivkah first and foremost, because she was Penelope's new living self, but that didn't excuse his neglect towards his wife. That had just been unacceptable._

* * *

Draco slowly awoke from his dream, the feeling of guilt slowly leaving his chest. Everything he had done in that life seemed so cruel, he had never fully been able to forget it. That had been the only time he ever really neglected his family, and the guilt had eaten at him ever since. Those four people- his wife and three children- had deserved better, but nothing could change any of that now.

The curious thing about that life though, was Rivkah had tried to be there for him when he was hurt. Penelope had always been close with him, but in their other lifetimes they had never grown nearly as close as the first. When she had cared enough to pay her respects to his dead wife, it made him remember few other instances that meant so much to him, that could prove she had ever cared.

Sitting up in bed, he leaned his back against the pillows and let his head fall. Why did he do this to himself? If he could make the memories disappear into the farthest reaches of his mind, he would, if only to find some peace. He could never shut off the memories completely, but some decent sleep would be welcomed with open arms. He hadn't had a full nights sleep since the memories began to flood back into his head when he became sixteen.

Resting his hand beneath his chin, he stared blankly at the wall. He would not sleep the rest of the night with a painful memory like that having resurfaced- what a pity, he had really been looking forward to sleeping.

* * *

In her own dorm, Hermione sat awake as well, but for different reasons. Yes, her mind was plagued by memories she thought to be nothing more then visions, but the images had still pulled her from sleep. Everything Malfoy had been showing her lately had reflected back in her mind's eye, right back up to the feeling of being slapped when she saw those last two people- Rafe and Hannelore she believed.

Sitting up in her own bed, she had a bit of scratch paper sitting before her. She had taken careful notes upon waking, and was now rereading everything she had written considering the dreams- even if it were a very small amount indeed.

_-Each vision was of different people._

_-Every single one seemed to center around a male and a female, who seemed to all share similar physical traits; the woman always had dark hair, and brown or green eyes, while the man always had blond hair of sorts, and blue or grey eyes. _

_-In at least two of the visions, the male and female and apparently been lovers; Rafe and Hannelore, and Lowell and Penelope._

In her mind's eye, she wondered how she even remembered all those names when she had never seen the same pair twice, and how she could possibly know who was with who so well; they didn't call her the brightest witch of their age for nothing apparently.

_-For some reason in the most recent vision with Rafe and Hannelore, she had felt the slap to Hannelore's face._

That, unfortunately, was the most puzzling thing listed. How the bloody hell had she felt that? She must've felt so bad for the woman that she _imagined_ being hit, but the logical part of her mind knew this hope was faulty. She had felt bad for people before, but never felt anything physical because of it.

She sighed. Nothing made sense, and there were only two ways to figure out just what was going on; ask Malfoy and demand an answer, or figure it out herself. Since the first option was probably going to prove futile, the latter seemed like a better idea.

Setting the notebook aside, she laid back down. What was she going to do now?

_Well, I guess I'm going to have to make Malfoy show me something again._

* * *

The next morning Draco wandered from his dorm room half awake, blinking sleep from his eyes. His predictions the previous night had been correct, and sleeping had proven difficult. Yawning into his hand, he began the trek down to breakfast.

However, the blond was frightfully unaware of the ginger lurking behind the corner.

"Malfoy," Ron said, stepping out from his hiding space as the blond approached; to say he was startled would be an understatement. Draco's room was on the far side of the school, a floor above the Slytherin common room, and to see a Gryffindor that close to the snake's den was unusual. Granger never dared to come to his dorm or the Slytherin dungeons, and she was the bloody Head Girl.

"Weasley," the blond said, keeping his emotions in control. A simple surprise was nothing to lose his mind over, and he was fairly certain he already knew what this was about. "Something I can do for you?"

"You know there bloody well is," Weasley said, moving to jab the blond with his wand, but Malfoy drew his own and kept Ron at bay, watching him closely. "What are you playing at?"

Feigning stupidity, he raised both eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Ron scowled. "You know what I mean!"

"No," Draco said, resisting the urge to smirk, "I don't believe I do."

The redhead's face slowly began to adapt a tinge of red itself, "Your threat!"

_Ah, it's practically too easy to make his temper flare. _Unable to suppress it now, he smirked. "Ah yes, that."

"Yes that," Ron mocked stepping closer but the blond did not back down. "I don't know what you think you're playing at, what you think you're going to do to Hermione, but I'm telling you now Malfoy to stay away from her. She doesn't need an arsehole like you in her life."

_Yet she needs you? _"And what makes you think my presence is not welcome," he asked, eyes glinting. Oh, this would be fun. "What makes you think she opposes the idea of me being in her life? Really Weasley, the girl has not been present a lot at your table, and if I'm correct you can rarely speak in class now that I'm forced to be her partner, so how would you know?"

Ron lunged, but Draco had been expecting as much and sidestepped the ginger; it was no secret he fancied his friend, after all, so it was not hard to predict an angry reaction. The blond smirked at Weasley's loss of control.

"And really Weasley," the blond continued, smirk still in place, "why should it matter to you if I choose to pursue Granger or not? She hasn't paid you any attention the past seven years, so what would change now? For all you know I could be the best thing that ever happens to her."

"You'll probably get her killed or something," he grumbled, hands clenched.

Draco shrugged, ignoring the pang in his chest. _I've already done that Weasley. _"That's not my intent Weasley," he said, turning to go, "but you are keeping me from my breakfast, and there really is no point to this conversation." He turned to go, but Ron was having none of that and quickly hurried in front of him, blocking his path once more.

"Stay away from her," he hissed, "you're bad news."

_Actually Weasley, you've been bad news for centuries. _He smirked again, resisting the urge to punch the moron in the side of the head. "Don't worry Weasley," he said coyly, "I won't hurt her." Quickly sidestepping the ginger, he took his leave down to the Great Hall, never once looking back, but the bastard didn't follow immediately.

_No Weasley, you are more of a danger to her life then I am._

* * *

The first few classes that day passed without event, and although Hermione looked at Malfoy in every class she had with him, he refused to look her way. That was the problem with having to look into his eyes, if he refused it proved a difficult task indeed, especially with classrooms full of students around. If she merely had to grab his hand or something she would've done so when he reached down to retrieve a new quill in potions. Thoroughly frustrated with the situation (again), she proved to be unpleasant company throughout the entire morning.

When lunch came around, her mood lightened only a bit as she ate, prepared to head off to the library as soon as possible. She had yet to discover anything, but was certain she would be able to once she had the chance to head back. Last night she had been onto something, but the book she discovered she needed was up in the Restricted Section, and the library had nearly been closed when she discovered this. It probably wasn't something to embark on during the lunch hour, but once school was out for the day she would hurry up there and try to get that book.

Lunch was going just fine, until Ron took her hand beneath the table and shoved something into it. Startled, she glanced at him, but he was just continuing to eat as though nothing were wrong. Curious, she looked down and noted it was a piece of paper, folded once. Opening it, she read his quick note.

_Stay away from Malfoy, I think he's planning to cause you some trouble. He's been acting strange lately. _

She rolled her eyes. Malfoy was always strange, but that was no reason to worry. Besides, she couldn't rightly stay away from him if she planned to get some answers. She picked up a muggle pen and quickly scribbled back, _I can't do that Ron, we work together in practically every class and I patrol with him. Stop being so worrisome. _She handed him the note, intent on finishing her meal a bit quicker.

_I'm not being worrisome! Something is off about him Hermione; he's not acting like himself._

Hermione nearly choked when he wrote that. Boy was he right! _Oh, stop it Ronald, you're worrying too much. I won't listen to you warn me about this; I'm a perfectly practical girl and I'm sure I can handle myself. Quit telling me to avoid him. I am capable of deciding who really is a threat and who isn't. Now stop this silliness. I'm off to the library, so please try to not bring this up again when I see you in our next class. _

Shoving the paper back to him, she stood and grabbed her bag. "I'm off to the library," she said cheerfully, smiling at the small group of friends she had been sitting with.

"Alright Hermione," Harry said, his attention still focused dominantly on Ginny, "see you next class." She nodded, and didn't wait for anymore farewells, just took her leave as quickly as possible. Merlin's beard, could Ron pester her over that Malfoy topic anymore then he already had?

Lost in her train of thought, she didn't take into account the pair of silver eyes watching her body carefully as she rushed out, never once losing sight of her until she left the hall. The boy considered following her, to make sure nothing happened, but restrained. She could handle herself in this life.

"Something troubling you mate?" Blaise asked from his side, eyebrow raised. Draco had been staring off intently in the direction of Gryffindor table since sitting down, and watching his eyes follow the Gryffindor Princess as she took her leave just proved to the Italian that something was up.

"No," he said, taking a large swig of his drink; it was Rum today, "just thinking."

Blaise knew that was a lot of Bollocks, but didn't say anything and resumed his conversation with Theodore Nott, who had been talking about some popular Quidditch Team he saw that summer. Draco ignored the conversation completely, looking longingly at the Great Hall's doors.

If only he could talk to someone about all of this.

**Part 3: Too Little Too Late, 1537 (Life Two)**

**Dreu Antoine Malfoy (14) and Harmony Joan Potter (18)**

"May I sit?" she asked politely, standing in the doorway to the blonds study. Usually he only used the large space to think, never study, but today could be an exception if anything, for he could see the true pain in her eyes.

Nodding to the chair next to his own, Dreu watched her sit carefully. Harmony had not let the events of nearly a month ago affect her life, at least not out in the open. Alabaster Snape had visited her home twice since his attack, but both times when either her mother or father were home, and as far as he knew nothing had happened since. "How is thou?" he asked, trying to be polite to someone he still had a hard time tolerating.

"Fine," she said, her lip quivering. It was no secret to the younger boy that the events of that night haunted her mind, and the actions of her always drunk fiancé bothered her immensely, but the woman was holding up fairly well for her situation. She would marry Alexander Potter soon, and that would hopefully keep Alabaster away from her, or so the girl hoped. Dreu on the other hand didn't think it would make a damn difference whether or not she was married- Snape had a twisted mind. "I am keeping together."

"As is expected," he said coldly, not quite able to show the woman compassion like she probably hoped. He thought it was rather silly of her to simply invite the man into her room to begin with. "Hast thou told thy husband yet?"

She shook her head, gripping the fine material of her expensive dress. "No, I hast not figured out just how to yet. Perhaps I shall never mention it."

He scoffed. "Then thou are just as tasteless as thou husband. He lies as well, thee know?"

She looked away, not responding. "We are to be married soon. Will thou attend?"

Dreu wanted to yell no, that he had no desire to be at this woman's wedding, nor did he really like the man she was engaged to. But, his parents had already forced him into agreeing to attend. "I shall."

Harmony smiled tightly. "Alabaster will attend as well."

"Alabaster attends all events," he replied, rolling his eyes. "That is unsurprising."

She nodded, before standing. "I hear thou are seeing someone- Miss Babcock?"

The blond nodded, smiling at the mention of the girl he was currently courting. "Yes, I shall be bringing her with to thou wedding. She is charming." _And you are not. _

"I am happy to hear," she said, before reaching out a hand. "I must go however, Alexander expects me home soon."

He scowls. "Get used to that. Thou shall learn to never leave home."

The raven- haired beauty frowned at that, but didn't comment. They said their farewells, and then she departed without anymore talk about who the other was seeing, and he politely watched her go from his doorstep.

He didn't realize how much of a reality check he would be in for soon.

**1539; Two Years Later**

He held the woman with a loving grip, but lately his thoughts towards her had changed. Marrying Anastasia Babcock at fifteen had seemed a marvelous idea at the time, just under a year ago. Now, holding her as they looked out the window, he couldn't feel more like a fool.

Oh, the memories had come back in a rush one night, causing him to rush away from the small gathering that was being held then and losing the contents of his stomach. Memories of a beautiful woman- with Harmony's facial features, but different eyes and hair- were plaguing his mind, and for days it remained that way.

It took nearly two weeks to realize just what everything meant, and by then it was far too late to change anything. Harmony was married to Alexander, and the couple had a child just last year named Acacia. Dreu was married now himself, and was working for the same goal; an heir.

If those memories of Harmony's past life had resurfaced two years ago, the last time the pair were alone together, he would have done things so differently. He would never have been cruel to her, and would have only treated her with the highest degree of respect- but too little, too late. He could do nothing with that woman when she herself was married with someone else, nor could he look at Anastasia the same. His heart now swelled ironically for the woman he had hated for years, and he could never have her. It was heartbreaking.

"Come to bed," a voice whispered in his ear, and he turned around to face his wife Anastasia, with her long blond tresses hanging free. She looked sleepy, but her fingers were lightly grazing his arm, causing Goosebumps to form. "It is cold," she continued, standing on her toes to plant a gentle kiss against his cheek.

He thought the opposite actually, for it was mid-July and the weather was fair, but if she were saying such things it was because she was looking to do something else, and he would not say no to that. After all, he would do most anything to draw his thoughts from the fact that he would probably never really be happy in life.

Slipping beneath the covers of their bed, everything became a blur. They moved quickly, frantically, both probably for different reasons. He knew he was hurrying up the process because he wanted to clear his mind, but she might have been frantic because she actually liked it. Either way, it wasn't long before her moans filled his ears and he let himself get lost in the moment, hoping for a generous amount of sleep once this was over.

It didn't take long for the both of them to finish, and return to lying on their bed, panting. At some point she curled against him and fell asleep, so in love with her blond husband. He felt the guilt pile up and block his airways. Merlin, she loved him in a way that he could never love her, not now.

_But that does not change the fact that Anastasia is thou wife, and Harmony is but someone thee loathed for most of my life. _

He sighed, stroking his wife's hair. Was this really how the rest of his life would feel?

* * *

**A/n: **So, what do you think? Nothing about the Weasley's involvement yet, but we are getting there :)


	8. Draco's Jealousy

**A/n: **Well, I have to say that after this, updates will be a bit harder to deal with. I'm going to need to start focusing on school, so if updates take slightly longer or anything, you know why. But fear not! I have no plans to give up on this story, simply because I love it too much! Hope you like it! Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

Check me out on Facebook! The link is on my profile!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1: Understand, 1870 (Life Five)**

**Rafe Dax Malfoy (25) and Hannelore Marie Hollingberry (30)**

One would think Rafe Malfoy would have married long ago, but they would be sorely mistaken. It had been nearly ten years since he and Hanna had a moment alone together, and that was tearing him apart. He could remember all of their years and lives together, and knowing she lived in the home of a monster was nearly too much to bear.

That being said, he had yet to go and steal her away from her husband. Despite the life she had, Hanna had come up with the twisted theory that she was happy, something she always made sure she declared to him. He knew she did it because when he was 19, he had tried to convince her to leave the man. But here she was, at 30, with an eight year old boy at her side; a child with squirrely features and startling green eyes.

This particular day, they were attending a ball hosted by Cornelius Weasley, the now proud husband of Lydia Josephine. Considering Malfoy's bad history with the ginger, he was surprised he had decided to attend this ball at all- and so were many of the guests.

He sat at a table with Charlotte Trainer, a young blond woman who was only three years his minor. At 22, she was stunning, and everyone attending the ball knew the young woman hoped to wring herself a husband out of Rafe. The blond man however, had different plans for her entirely. For one thing, there would certainly never be a marriage.

Hannelore, her husband and her son sat across the dance floor from the pair. The woman, despite herself, kept glancing over at the young Malfoy and the woman attacking his arm. They looked good together, there was no denying that, but she could tell even from there that he did not harbor any real feelings for the girl. If you asked the brunette, he had only brought this young beauty to keep up appearances and have a date.

The poor girl's parents were probably beside themselves with joy that the rich man had taken their daughter to Weasley's ball, even if the event was not nearly as flashy as many other events that year had been. The Weasley's were not rich, but with the help of Cornelius's wife's funds, the event was just lovely enough, but Charlotte's gown was far too formal in Hannelore's opinion. Then again, she didn't like seeing him parade such a bint around.

At length, the ball turned to dancing, and she reluctantly took her husbands hand as he led her onto the dance floor. Rafe danced his young date around with elegant ease, catching more then one woman's attention. Hanna rolled her eyes; the man was truly arrogant, and perhaps a bit full of himself.

As the night progressed, she turned her head and spotted her son, Liam, leaving the ballroom to head onto the terrace. She quickly met her husband's eyes- he was still oblivious to this fact. Robert could easily become an angry man, and since children were not supposed to go out onto the terrace, Liam could get in trouble, and that would spike her husband's anger. Quickly excusing herself, she stopped to speak with one of the Parkinson mothers for a moment, before losing Robert's interest and chasing after her son.

Thankfully, the boy was seated on one of the benches just outside the door, looking extremely bored. "Liam," she scolded, coming up beside him, "Thou are not supposed to be out here. Go- hurry inside."

Her son looked up and frowned. "Mr. Malfoy told me I could come out here- he said it will clear my head."

She frowned. "Thou dost not need to clear thou head. Children dost not need to come out here. As I say- go back in. Mr. Malfoy is not thou father, and thee should know to not listen to him over thou own father."

Liam looked down at his feet. "Father will be most unhappy if he finds us here."

"Yes, he will." She extended her hand, taking her son's smaller one tightly and dragged him inside. "But he dost not need to know, now come. We shall go speak with Veronica Parkinson and her daughter, Tabitha."

Her son nodded, and the pair were nearly to the Parkinson's when Robert's seemingly gentle- but actually quite firm- grip on Hanna's arm stopped them in their tracks. "Were have thou two been," he hissed, looking on angrily at his wife. "Susan Abbot was just asking me about thou, and I could not locate thee."

The woman painted a warm smile on her face, although she felt her blood run cold. She did not know how her husband would react to their short absence, but almost anything could set him off these days. When had he ever been an understanding, kind soul? Hanna herself could not recall a time he had ever truly been loving- even when she lost her first child. He had just screamed and slapped her around, telling her to do better. But the man had kept his vicious tendencies to himself the last eight years, since she hit him in the head with a lamp and screamed at him that she would leave if he ever hit her again, and ever endangered their child. He had since restrained from being violent, but that did not mean it kept him from often yelling. She was certain he only spoke in such a calm manner just now because he did not want to draw unwanted attention.

"I was talking but a breath of fresh air," she replied, stepping smoothly from his grip as she released Liam's hand, clasping her hands together properly in front of her. "But I am here now, and I shall speak with Miss Abbot." She smiled brighter, hoping Robert would leave and go talk with Edward Flint again, whom she had seen walking with him not twenty minutes ago, both the men taking advantage of the beverages offered.

He nodded tightly, before glancing at Liam. "Go on boy- seek thou friends. Atticus Brown is over there." He pointed, before leaving without a second glance. Liam looked up at his mother for confirmation, but she just smiled and nodded, before the child rushed off to his friend.

Sighing, she herself moved across the room to where the drinks were being served, and found herself a light something to sip on. She took a nearby table that Abbot was seated at, the half-blooded woman talking all about the new dress her mother had bought her, before zoning out into her own thoughts. When Abbot left, she barely noticed. It wasn't until a blond figure sat down opposite her that her eyes zeroed in on the person, taking in the very form of Rafe Malfoy.

"How are thou," he asked politely, sipping something from a delicate glass. His eyes bored into her and she was certain he was trying to see if any damage had been done since they last spoke, four years before. It had been at an event like this, with her son at her side, and conversation had not drifted like that night in the alcove. Looking back at him her heart swelled; Circe, she missed him so much.

Turning him down when she was 21 had been a good choice. Her husband had been angry and abusive, and she did not care to be on the receiving end of his fury. But after that night- she had been. It had taken nearly a whole year after that for her to get pregnant, but she did, and he only began letting up then for fear of harming the second child she was carrying- and the idea of his wife hitting him in the head with a lamp again. She was thankful that Rafe did not know of these events, for he may not see her at night anymore like they once had, but he still wanted her safe- Hanna could tell. She could always see it when she attended events like this, as though Rafe were waiting for the moment when Robert would walk up and beat her senseless in front of everyone.

Maybe at one point in time Rafe had even loved her, but years had torn them apart. Now he would take care of her when Robert refused, but she was certain he no longer loved the dull woman sitting there at the table with him. It made her heart hurt, but she made herself forget about that ache as she replied to his question.

"Lovely, I enjoy my life. Liam is still so young, I have someone to watch." She smiled the best she could, but the way his eyes narrowed told her the young Malfoy did not approve. Glancing just past the right side of his head she spotted his parents, Aster and Naida, speaking with Madeline Greengrass, who was clutching the hand of her grandson tightly as the ill mannered boy tried to chase after Liam and Atticus as they hurried past. Poor boy, he was only four and all the people there his age were young girls. Watching the scene she completely missed what Rafe said.

"Beg pardon," she asked, focusing her eyes back on his handsome features.

"I was simply acknowledging the fact that thou husband is over there making a fool of oneself." Her head turned quickly to spot the slightly tipsy form of her husband talking to an attractive redhead, who could be either a Weasley or a Rexburg. He was obviously having too good of a time talking with her, and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. Disgusted, Hanna flipped her head around quickly and gracelessly propped an elbow up on the table, resting her head on it. From the corner of her eye she could see an elderly woman gawking at the horrendous sight.

"That tis how my husband is," she said bitterly, taking perhaps too big of a sip of her drink. "He is always this way when we journey out."

Rafe cocked an eyebrow. "Then thy husband is not fit for thee. If he can gallivant around, then thou deserves better."

Immediately, her head snapped up, knowing what he meant, and what they had once done. "Rafe…"

Standing, he walked to her and offered her his arm. "May I distract thou then?"

Her eyes widened. They couldn't start doing that again! But glancing at her husband- who was practically pressing the woman into the wall behind them, earning horrid glances, she decided she could care less about what he thought. Taking the blond's offered arm, she could only hope that Robert did not turn and see the pair of them leaving. Rafe was escorting her from a party- which had happened on more than one occasion at far more than one event, although all these occasions had been nearly ten years ago- and she knew the woman would gossip but she did not care. Rafe always had a way of making her truly feel good.

* * *

He stopped, gently twisting his head away and resting his cheek against the cool stone behind her, breathing deeply, his eyes closed. What the fuck was wrong with him? He couldn't do this! He would not be the cause of more of her pain. Shoving away from the wall he ran his fingers quickly, angrily, through his dirty blond hair. She touched her lips for a moment, seemingly in regret as well.

"I am sorry Hanna," he said, rubbing her eyes. "This is my mistake, I shall no push again." Pulling out his wand, he fixed their wrinkled clothing, taking the swell out of her thoroughly kissed lips, so her husband would not suspect. She watched him in silence. When he finished, he took her hand and kissed it gently before turning away, but she caught his arm lightly.

"Dost not be sorry," she whispered, walking around him so they were face to face, standing up on her toes so he had to look at her. "I followed thou actions. I am sorry as well."

He smirked, before gently grasping her hand. "Never be sorry love. I should never have pushed thee."

She shook her head quickly, eyes looking downwards as she spoke. "I only wish thou had pushed farther."

His eyebrows shot up. The part of him that was still very much Lowell, the part that had once touched this girl in her first life, wanted to jump at this opportunity and steal her away now. She obviously wanted him to, but it couldn't be done. He knew her son was probably beginning to look for her by now, and although he could see it in her eyes that she missed them stealing quick, chaste kisses in empty hallways, he could not rightly push for more.

Instead, he cupped her cheek and gently kissed her lips. "I cannot Hanna, thou know this."

She sighed, leaning into his hand. How she missed the comforting touch he could bring on. "I know," she said, before backing up. "Will I see thou again soon?"

He shrugged. "I am not certain, but sometime we shall, love."

Nodding, she collected the words and gently shoved them into her mind, storing them for later. Her little moments of pure bliss with him were sometimes enough. Turning her back on him, she hurried back to the Ball before people began to wonder.

* * *

That night, they returned back to the Hollingberry's home in silence. Liam could tell there was a lot of tension between his parents that night, and did not argue when his father demanded he retire to his room. The young boy hurried away, only to stop once and glance back at his mother, whose expression could not be read.

Once Robert was certain their son was sound asleep, he went up to the bedroom. Hannelore followed a few minutes later, now clothed in the pale nightwear. Upon entering their chamber, she could already feel the anger in the air. Once the door had shut, Robert had her pinned into the floor, his wand at her right temple, the other side of her face hitting the floor.

"Thou was with that man tonight," he spat, his fist coming to clamp on her hair. Instinctly, she tried to reach for her wand, but his oddly placed knee stamped down on her attempt, and in the moment she found herself truly trapped beneath that man. Suppressing a scream so as not to alert her son and the help, she bit down on her lip, drawing a bit of blood and refusing to answer him.

He fisted her hair tighter, and used his grip to draw her head up and slam it on the stone; she saw stars. "Talk! I know thou is disloyal, thou went off with that Malfoy! Thee was never to be with him again!"

"I did not-" She tried, but he was having none of it. Bashing her head into the stone a second time, she felt a wave of nausea take over. Fighting down the urge to vomit, she clamped her eyes shut.

It was then he got up, but not before tearing through her nightgown and finding her wand, which he tossed carelessly onto the bed. Stepping back, he watched her attempt to curl away from him, the pain in her head causing a major headache, but he was not done with the ordeal.

"Thou will not be disloyal," he hissed from his standing position. "Thou are mine! I married thee so no one else would touch thee. But now I have to be so mean Hanna, and I dost not like to be mean to thou." He kicked her in the side once as he spoke, before taking a deep breath and looking down at the crumbled form of his wife.

"Thou will be only mine," he said, speaking more to himself than her now. Aiming his wand perfectly, he spoke in the clearest, least slurred voice he had been able to muster up all night; "Imperio."

Her mind blanked, and although the pain was still present she felt her own thoughts being shoved to the side, begrudgingly awaiting his orders. He took a step forwards, rolling her over so that she was facing him, lying directly on her back, looking a bit dazed. "Thou will not speak with Rafe Malfoy. If he comes to speak with thee, thou will comst find me, and I shall speak to him. Thou will not journey off to speak with the man alone, and thou shall never tell him I spoke to thee about this matter."

Against her will, she nodded. He leaned down a bit, getting further into his wives face. "Thou will not tell anyone of this, and thou will stop being difficult. Understood, love?"

Inwardly, she cringed as he used the term that Rafe had only hours before. How did he even know she had been disloyal? Reluctantly nodding, he grinned and stepped away, nodding towards the bed.

"Now get in bed." Dragging herself from the floor, she stumbled into the bed, her nose bloody, and collapsed on it. He sat down beside her, eyes dark. The monster that was her husband stared on at her for several moments, before reaching over and tapping her nose, stopping the light blood flow and cleaning her up. He fixed up her lightly damaged body, but left the gown torn before grabbing her wand and leaning in close.

"Thou will never raise thee wand at me, understand?"

Nodding, she looked away. She was really going to be trapped like this, wasn't she? Her husband got closer, his wand now out of her vision. "Kiss me like thou loves me," he said, his lips trailing down her cheek. Turning her head, she kissed him, her mind screaming at her to stop. Now if she only could.

Eventually, he pulled back, patting her on the cheek. "Rest, thou will need it for the morning."

Hannelore did not need to be told twice, scurrying under the blankets; she buried her face in the pillows- now what could she possibly do to help her situation?

**Part 2: Krum, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

The following morning at breakfast, Hermione flatly ignored Ron. He was still being a pest, and all she could do was try and ignore him. So far, that wasn't working too well. He kept nudging her under the table, attempting to draw her attention and probably go straight into another Malfoy-is-going-to-have-you-eaten-by-a-dragon-if-you-keep-going-places-with-him talk, and she wasn't interested in it. Really, did he honestly believe Malfoy would put that much effort into a plan just to send her off to be eaten?

Stirring her food around on her plate, she didn't even notice when the morning post flew in. It wasn't until a letter landed just in front of her that she even took into account the large amount of noise the owls were causing. Blinking quickly to draw herself from her thoughts, she picked up the letter and checked the outside; it wasn't marked. Tearing the letter open, she curiously studied it.

_Hermione~_

_I will be in London for a coming game, and I will have a few days off to myself. Will Hogwarts allow me to come and visit you and your friends, or do I have to wait for the holidays? We have not spoken in forever! Do send me back!_

_~V. Krum _

She rolled her eyes. Since the fourth year, she had kept in mutual connection with Viktor Krum, and although his English writing skills had improved greatly, she was sure his English was still terribly choppy when he spoke. The fact that he had written 'send' instead of 'owl' just showed that it wasn't perfect that, she beamed at the idea of seeing an old friend again.

"Viktor wants to come and visit," she said happily, informing the few students around her. A group of third years who had not attended school at Hogwarts then looked around excitedly at the news, but that wasn't who Hermione wanted to look at, it was her friends.

Ron's moody look instantly changed into a wide grin. "Really? He's going to come and visit?"

She nodded. "He has a game sometime soon, but he didn't state when. I'll have to owl him. Do you think McGonagall will be alright with it?"

Harry smiled, looking over at Ginny who was looking quite happy herself. "I don't see why not, so long as he doesn't interrupt lessons. Maybe he'll come on a Hogsmeade weekend and we can just stay the night there, instead of just seeing him at dinners."

She nodded, smiling. "Perhaps. I'll ask him when he was thinking. It'll be nice to see him again."

"Indeed," Neville said, glancing up from his conversation. Hermione beamed at him.

"I guess I'll go owl him," she said, standing and collecting her things. "I'll just have to make sure with McGonagall later today- the Head's have a meeting with her."

"Well good luck," Ginny said, waving the brunette goodbye as she rushed out of the hall. Even before Hermione was gone, Ron was already on about playing a game of Quidditch with Krum when he arrived.

And from his place across the hall, Draco tried to figure out what suddenly had the Gryffindor's in such good moods, and why Granger had rushed from the hall.

_I wonder what's going on?_

* * *

It wasn't until just before Potions was to begin that Malfoy heard the news; Viktor Krum was planning on stopping by, and had specifically owled Granger about it. That fact alone made Draco's blood boil.

_Fucking Krum._

He did not have a good history at all with the Krum's. Henry Krum had been engaged to Penelope, and had been one of the main reasons for her untimely death. Draco was fairly sure that Viktor was not a reincarnation of Henry- for not everyone chose to come back to this world- but still, the mere thought of tolerating that idiot's ancestor again was pure horror.

In his fourth year he had not known about his past events, and had thus thought the arrival of Viktor Krum to their school was fairly cool. But once his fifth year came, and his memories returned, he had wanted to find the Quidditch player and rip him apart. That idiot had been parading Granger, lovely Granger, around the entire night and Merlin only knew what they did afterwards! No, Krum was not up there on his list of favorite people anymore.

And the fact that Krum had owled Granger _only _really put him off. Krum would not be toying with that girl if he had a say in it- and he would! If he could not make Granger remember in this life he would just have to accept that, but he would be dead before Krum laid a finger on her. Stone dead.

He laid his head down on the desk as two Gryffindor's across the isle spoke loudly about how great of a couple Hermione and Krum had made, and he missed the brunette's light blush. When class finally began he did not raise his head and Snape did not comment.

He kept his eyes closed for a while, trying to figure out if it would be completely uncalled for him to lock Granger in a closet- preferably his own- when Krum arrived. Then again, he had already threatened Weasley, so perhaps in this life he would threaten everyone and just make sure Krum stayed away.

But, he could live with having Granger in his closet. It wasn't like he wouldn't take care of her, but it did seem like that would go against his punishment and screw him over. He had learned in the past that simply trying to take what he wanted never worked. He had to earn Granger, and make her believe, and that was really the only way things would work.

Krum would just make everything harder.

About a fourth of the way through class, Draco slid his head down his desk and found an interesting sight. Granger had been toying with the hem of her school skirt, her fingers playing with the material, and now it was revealing a good amount of her leg. That was terribly teasing, so he groaned quietly and turned his head to stare at a wall, hoping maybe it would crumble and kill someone- anyone really- in the room. At least it would distract him.

Finally, Snape declared it was time to work in partners. He didn't turn his head, just closed his eyes and groaned aloud this time. He heard Granger make a huffing sound behind him, and waited to hear the scrape of her chair on the floor before he turned his head. Yes, she was gone, but something interesting was sticking out of her notes.

_Dear Viktor~_

_Yes, please come visit! We would all love to see you. I think though that everyone at Hogwarts may now know, and I'm not sure that's what you wanted. Harry suggested that if you come over a Hogsmeade weekend that you could just get a room in Hogsmeade and we could all come and meet you. It could be a lot of fun! What do you say? Besides, we will probably get to see more of each other this way anyways. Just let me know when you plan to come. _

_~Hermione_

He saw red. The blond was ready to storm into the back of the Potions room, shake her, and demand to know just what she thought she was doing, sending a letter that would probably be interpreted by the Quidditch star in all the wrong ways. Now the idea of locking her in his closet seemed more appealing than before. Tossing the letter back into her belongings, he crossed his arms and glared at the wall in front of him, completely fine with letting Granger do all the work.

She arrived back at her seat and crossed her arms tightly over her chest, an action he just barely noticed from the corner of his eyes. "Malfoy, are you going to do anything?"

"Why should I," he snapped, rolling his own eyes. She leaned forwards on the desk to try and see his face- and probably his eyes too- but he huffed and snapped his head in the other direction. "You are perfectly capable Granger, you do it."

She glared at him. "No."

Glancing back at her, he focused on her nose. The girl was being such a bitch! It's not like he didn't want to pass Snape's class- although he could probably sleep and pass Snape's class- but that he didn't want to work with her.

_She doesn't even understand Krum isn't that great. Now if she would remember me, she would stop writing notes to this prick entirely. Hey, that's a fairly good idea! _

He grinned, propping his arms up on the desk and turning to face her, this time making sure to catch her eyes. If she thought she could just go around playing with Krum, she had another thing coming, and he was really going to give her something to think about tonight.

Locking eyes with her, he smirked and dragged her back into the tangles of his mind.

* * *

_Rafe Dax Malfoy (16) and Hannelore Marie Hollingberry (21), 1861_

_He pinched her nipples, her barely controlled moans filling his ears. _

"_We can't," she gasped, pulling on his hair even as he teased her entrance, something he had done so few times before. It was so very wrong to keep letting this young man seduce her, but he was so good at it. "Rafe…"_

"_Hmm," he asked, coming down to slam his lips onto hers. "Just enjoy it," he breathed, coming back up a moment later. "You always do."_

_She moaned, and he took the opportunity to push deep inside of her, pressing her down into the sheets on his bed. He had not touched her in so long, and if this were the last time he did he would cherish it. He shouldn't be doing it now, but he wanted her, and it was hard to control himself. _

_Any protests Hanna had were swallowed up as he began to pound into her, wishing that by the end she would remain there to sleep instead of disappearing home, back to that monster. Sometimes he wondered what she told him when she disappeared like this. _

_Her moans got louder, and his grunts increased as they carried on, everything blurring out._

* * *

Draco did not waste a lot of time in the vision, and quickly pulled them both out before Granger's shocked self could tell him to do so. Coming back into the classroom, he noticed her cheeks her quite pink, and she looked terribly embarrassed. Once she had collected herself, her eyes widened at the sight of him and she snapped her head down to stare at her papers, cheeks coloring more and more.

"What the hell was that," she hissed, beginning to work on the assignment so as to try and distract herself.

"That, dear Granger," he said, never taking his eyes off of her, "is a reminder."

Her head snapped up, and she looked on at him, not quite sure what he meant. But whatever thoughts were dancing around in her head were kept to herself as she turned back to her work, trying to distract herself.

And Malfoy just couldn't stop smirking. He usually kept any sexual memories under wraps for his sake- and would probably pay for that later- but drawing Granger's bloody mind away from Krum had definitely been worth bringing up hard memories and deep desires.

* * *

**A/n: **Now we have Krum! Don't worry, Ron's coming back soon, but this needed to develop first ;) Any thoughts?


	9. Hermione's Pestering

**A/n: **Tada! Here's chapter 9. It's fairly short, and barely touches on the past lives, but some majorness happens and sets you up for later! Enjoy! Hope you like it! Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

Check me out on Facebook! The link is on my profile!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar**

* * *

**Part 1: Tense, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

_Hermione~_

_I will come in just over two weeks. Meeting you and Ron and Harry in Hogsmeade will be wonderful. I cannot wait to see you again._

_~V. Krum_

Hermione smiled down at the letter in her hands. It was breakfast the following morning, and she had just received Viktor's note. Having finished reading, she smiled.

"We will be spending the night in Hogsmeade next weekend," she said cheerfully, looking up at her two best friends across the table. "It's perfect! He comes on our Hogsmeade weekend and all- all we need to do is book two rooms, and it will all be great!"

Harry grinned. "Does it say how long he is staying?"

She shrugged, folding the letter up and placing it into her bag. "No, but I doubt he even knows yet. He will probably only be around one night, knowing his crazy Quidditch schedule. I'm surprised he can even spare us a day."

"He's not sparing _us_ a day," Ron cut in, swallowing a large amount of food, "he's sparing _you _a day. Come on Hermione, the guy has been crushing on you since he took you to the Yule Ball in fourth year. If it were just me and Harry he was asking, he would probably only make time for a couple of hours. But he is making extra time because you'll be coming as well- he even owled you personally." She couldn't tell if there was bitterness or annoyance in his voice, but the ginger just didn't seem happy about the idea. "He'll be more excited to see you then either of us."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Quit being dramatic Ronald," she said, frowning. "He will be excited to see the both of you as well. Now come on- we're going to be late." Well, late for her. The two boys just shook their heads as she stood and left, glaring at them. She was always too early to class for them, and they could _usually _make it before the bell anyways.

The girl left the Great Hall without a backwards glance. They only ever accompanied her to class early when they were full and satisfied- and never when they had potions. But Hermione had a bone to pick with a certain blond, and a few extra minutes in class would work out fine for her; if the prick was there of course.

Then again, the blond had been acting strange lately. Half the time he avoided her, half the time he was throwing these unexplainable visions her way- and the git wouldn't even give her the grace of explaining them, not once. It was truly irritating, but she had yet to figure out how to convince him to explain. But oh, when she found the means to extract the answers, she would taunt him over his lost advantage! He held all the cards so long as she remained in the dark, but as soon as she understood things, it would be even playing ground. Depending on what all of this meant, maybe she would even have the upper hand in things; now wouldn't that be a turn of events!

But the question was, what was she trying to answer exactly? She knew she wanted explanations to what was being thrown her way, but she had absolutely no idea where that may lead her. How was she even involved? Hermione was so lost in her own thoughts as she entered Snape's room that she didn't even notice the Slytherin already sitting at their shared table. It wasn't until after she had sat down and dropped her bag that she even took notice of the boy, who was currently drumming his fingers on the desk.

He didn't say a word to her, but glancing over she noted the new cut he was sporting just above his brow, the wound having obviously never been tended to. That was odd, considering she had never thought of the blond as someone to sport marks that may ruin his appearance. The only time she could recall him sporting a wound was in third year when the Hippogriff _'nearly killed him'_. Even just the thought made her scoff at the prick's arrogance, and he finally met her gaze.

"You're staring Granger," he snapped, the irritation in his voice obvious. "So do you mind? I know I'm attractive, but doesn't it go against your bloody hatred towards me to openly gawk?" He was sneering now, and she decided it was time to revert back to the olden days.

"Yes Malfoy," she replied coolly, crossing her arms, "that nice gash in your forehead is most appealing." The sarcasm in her voice was just as obvious as the irritation in his. "It adds a much needed rough side to your spineless personality."

He grit his teeth. Arguing with her like this was not nearly as enjoyable as it had once been, and sending cruel words back and forth just sent needles to his heart. He did not really want to be talking to her at the moment as it was. He had yet to figure out her plans with Krum, and he would be damned if he allowed Potter and Weasley to ever watch out for her again- and dead long before any 'Krum' ever got near her again. That entire family was bad news, and had been ever since Henry Krum's birth five centuries before; he could simply never trust them again- and what's more, he loved her and couldn't just willingly send her off to be alone with three irresponsible idiots who could very well get her killed again.

Instead of replying, he spun to face the front and practically slammed his head into the desk, ignoring the multiple heads that snapped around at the noise. Hermione herself blinked, surprised at his reaction. After all, what kind of lame argument was that? Since when did Malfoy give up so quickly?

Despite her prodding him with a thin text she had recently gotten from the library, he ignored her the rest of class. Annoyed, she gave up after only a few minutes, and left the room without a backwards glance. Meeting up with her two best mates outside the door, she rolled her eyes.

"He is so annoying," she said, falling into step beside the two, and glaring at Harry as he chuckled.

"Malfoy is never going to change," he replied, wrapping an arm around her to give her a squeeze, "but at least the two of you haven't ripped each other apart in class yet."

She shrugged his arm off, rolling her eyes, just as Ron quietly swore. "What is it?"

"I left my book for next class back in potions," he grumbled, turning on his heel. "'I'll meet you guys at Hagrid's for the creature class, alright?" The pair nodded, and Weasley turned on his heel to hurry back to Snape's room, hoping he could somehow still be on time.

Rounding the corner, he crashed head-on into Malfoy, who shoved the ginger back forcefully. "Watch it you prick," he said, brushing himself off. The fact that he had to speak with the ginger at all at the moment made his temper worse. He was already considering ways to keep Granger from going to see Krum- _and figure out when that was bloody supposed to be_- and dealing with Weasley, who was obsessed with her, wasn't going to brighten his mood. "Now get out of the way," he hissed, shoving past but Ron shoved back and drew his attention then.

"Going to find her?" he asked, crossing his arms.

The blond cocked an eyebrow. "Would it matter Weasley? I do share my next fucking class with her."

"You're bad for her," he spat, glaring daggers. "She's been holed up in the library more than usual trying to figure out _something _you did to her." He shoved the blond, who was so surprised that the redhead could even come up with a conclusion like that, didn't stop him and stumbled back two steps. "It's bad enough she spends so much time up there, but she's been tired too- probably because of whatever you did to her!" He took a menacing step forwards, but so did Malfoy.

"I'm surprised you can even deduce an explanation like that from so little evidence. Really, the only thing actually pointing to me is that it all probably started around the time she fell out of her chair in potions." He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow expectantly, trying to maintain his composure; he wanted nothing more than to hex the boy into the nearest pillar, but just barely restrained himself.

The ginger grit his own teeth. "Something's going on Malfoy," he spat, eyes narrowed, "you did something to her and you bloody well believe I'll figure out what." He stormed back past the Slytherin again, the same way he had come, his 'forgotten' book nestled safely in his bag. Draco was considering sending a hex at the retreating figure when the Gryffindor turned and shouted over his shoulder, "Besides, Krum is the one her attention is on, so stop wasting your bloody time!" And then he bolted around the corner, out of sight.

It had been obvious since Malfoy's threat that he had to feel something for her. Walking quickly to be on time to his next lesson, he hoped he had hit a nerve and pissed the blond off. Maybe now he would stop being so pesky.

If only he knew what he had started.

**Part 2: Jayce, 1541 (Life Two)**

**Dreu Antoine Malfoy and Harmony Joan Potter**

He held his son in his arms. The child had been born mere months ago, and holding his newborn baby, Acanthus Alaric Malfoy, in his arms was still a wonder. It was his first child ever- in both lifetimes. He had never got to having one in his first life, what with killing himself and all. But the child in his arms was precious, and it was his, even if he secretly longed for its mother to be another woman; how sinful was that?

Cradling the child's head carefully, he took a seat in the large living room of the Malfoy Manor, his wife off someplace else currently. The peace without her was nice, for although Anastasia was a wonderful woman and mother, her presence haunted him with the fact that he longed for another. Rocking his child gently in his arms, he tried to remember the last time he had even seen his Love.

It had been during the holidays, in 1540. She had looked radiant carrying her daughter Acacia in her arms. The baby would be three now, walking and talking in small phrases. The child had looked so much like her mother that it pained him; likewise, Dreu's own son was a perfect image of his wife, with only the blond's blue eyes to ever prove they had the same blood.

Resting his head on the back of the sofa, he pictured her. Long curly black hair, flowing freely down her back that day, her alcoholic husband holding her clumsily, and nearly dropping their child on the unforgiving ground; the way her eyes sparkled when she looked on at her offspring but lost their sheen when she gazed upon her husband- it was frightfully obvious that the two did not love each other one bit, and who could? She had married a drunk, and constantly had to see Alabaster- from what she told him last year. He cringed at the thought of her idiot husband allowing a man like that so close to his wife. Was Alexander really that blind to how Snape gazed on at her?

"Thou is about to drop Acanthus," a smooth voice said, catching his attention. Cracking one eye open, he turned his head to spot his best friend, Jayce Xavier Zabini walking towards him and tightened his hold on his son; it was true, the sleeping child had nearly tumbled from his lap in the blonds moment of carelessness. "Thou wife would never forgive thee."

Dreu chuckled darkly. "No, she rightly would not, she would but try to have my head for ending her baby's life." He knew that although Anastasia loved him in ways he did not deserve- since he could not return her feelings- Acanthus held more of her love. Truly, the majority of kind feelings in their marriage were centered on the baby in his arms. But Anastasia had gone out with one of her dear friends- Rochelle Clearwater- and would probably not return until late, so he had his son to himself.

And now Jayce, who was looking on at the blond with a raised eyebrow. He took a seat opposite Dreu, his strong features a deep contrast against the two pale white men before him. The Italian's sun kissed skin glowed lovingly in the dancing light of day, gracing small patches of the room in its warm beams. "Thou looks unhappy."

He rolled his eyes. "I am always unhappy."

"Thou make thyself unhappy," Zabini replied, reaching forwards to grab a hold of a candle, needing something to fiddle with, "If thou would but love thy wife as much as thou love someone thee can never have, then thou would truly be happy." He spoke sincerely, for he had not seen his friend smile in a long time; not truly smile.

Dreu sighed, looking away from him. "Thou dost not understand; I shall never truly be happy again."

Confused, Jayce looked on at his friend for a long time, but couldn't understand his meaning. How hard could it be to let someone go?

**Part 3: Curiousity Killed the Cat, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

The rest of Hermione's day had passed quickly; nothing eventful had happened, aside from Ron continually going on-in that same almost bitter tone- about Krum wanting her, and Harry continually trying to stay out of the conversation. That had really been the only eventful thing that happened, minus Malfoy's odd behavior, but really, when did the blond seem normal these days?

She was on her way back up to her dorm when someone's voice interrupted her calm thoughts, and she immediately drew her wand. It took several seconds for her to realize it was Malfoy's voice, carrying to her from someplace behind her. Was he following her? Their paths would separate not far ahead, and he would go left instead of right to his dorm, so that wasn't necessarily the case. Her mind told her to carry on walking and ignore him, but something made her flatten herself into a shadowed corner and wait for him to walk by; something had taken hold of her curiosity and told her to wait around for him, because she wanted to know just what was going on with him, and what better way than listening into his minds ramblings?

It didn't take long at all for the blond to round the corner, muttering to himself. Unfortunately, she could still only make out sounds and not words, like before. Frustrated, she accidently let out a sigh and caught the blonds attention as he was passing.

That did it. He had roughly grabbed her arm and jerked her from the dark space, pulling her arm behind her and pressing her against the wall, her back to him, and his wand to the back of her throat. She had never expected such measures to be taken, and had not readied herself for his complete onslaught. If anything, she had been expecting a quick, nasty hex before he ranted at her for being nosy. Grabbing her and pressing her into the wall was not what she had planned for; Merlin, this was Malfoy, the Slytherin duelist who often took head-on attacks, not these vicious measures to pin an opponent down.

And really, was her sigh that bad that it had to set him off like this?

"What the bloody fuck are you doing Granger," he asked in surprise when he finally realized who it was; his wand was still digging painfully into her neck, just like his hand on her wrist would probably leave a dull mark.

"Attempting to swallow," she choked trying to turn her head to glare at him without success. He let go of her completely and allowed the girl to fall to the floor, stepping back. Dinner had only ended a bit ago and it was possible stray students would wander down the hallway and find this strange scene, and that wouldn't be good.

She turned to glare up at him as he spoke, rubbing the back of her slightly sore neck. "You shouldn't be hiding in places like that," he hissed, flicking his wrist to bring her bag to him. He dropped it gracelessly on the floor, crossing his arms tightly. "Some people don't take so kindly to being watched from the dark you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes, standing and snatching up her bag, wand in hand. "Yes well, most people don't mutter to themselves as they walk down the hall."

His eyes narrowed. "Why does it matter to you if I am muttering to myself? In case you have forgotten Granger, what I do doesn't concern you, and you should just learn to stay away from me."

That sent fire to her veins, and in a moment she had reached into her bag and chucked one of her books at him like a four-year old. _Oh Merlin, I hope the git's thick skull didn't do any damage to that volume. _"What is it with you," she snapped, crossing her arms as he rubbed his head, eyes dark. "One moment you are throwing these… _visions _my way and nearly acting civil, and the next you are shoving me away. I don't understand you Malfoy, and I never really have. What do you want from me? Are you just waiting for me to lose my mind so you can have yourself a nice laugh?"

"No," he spat, eyes dark. Circe, he didn't want to be talking about this! He was emotionally messed up enough because of this girl, he didn't need her to point it out. He didn't know how to go about these visions, or how he should be acting, since this was new territory he had never gotten the chance to explore. Did he worry about keeping up images for her sake until she knew the truth, or say fuck it all and try to make her see a lighter side of him before the full truth was out- if it even got to that point. He didn't know what to do! He had tried being nice before- when she had been Hannelore- but that had gone horribly wrong when his kindness turned into uncontrollable lust and he had a short affair with her. That was until her charming husband found out, and he had never discovered what kind of horrors he truly put her through, just that Hanna became too worried about her husbands wrath and he lost his chance.

"Then what do you want," she asked again, tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for an explanation. "If you have something oh so important to tell me Malfoy, why don't you just say it? This game you are playing is not fun, and I'm sick of it. Tell me what you want or what you are trying to show me and let's be done with it!"

He closed his eyes, hating himself. "I can't," he said quietly, grief filling his chest. Merlin he was so close! If he wasn't bound, he could just spit it out to her and run and hide in his dorm room, but that wouldn't do any good. He couldn't say it, and he was going to loe a perfectly good opportunity to finally tell her everything, all because of some fucking gods that thought he deserved to be punished. "You have no fucking idea how much I want to tell you Granger, but I just can't."

"Tell me what," she pressed, tilting her head. There was that strange behavior again, and she wouldn't' pass up an opportunity to push for answers. "I can't figure out what you want me to Malfoy unless you tell me."

He pursed his lips. Oh, there were ways he could help her figure it out, but none that he could think of that wouldn't earn him a well-placed hex later on for. But, what did he have to lose? She was pushing, so why couldn't he take advantage of that? Why couldn't he try and speed the process up? If he could make her remember, but had to open old wounds to do so, then that was worth dealing with the pain- anything to finally be finished with this torment.

Moving quickly, he grasped each side of her face gently in his hands, cradling her cheeks. "If you insist Granger," he breathed, stepping closer so their foreheads nearly touched. Oh he was going to get slapped for this, but it was his best bet. If she were remembering things in this life, then this was his best chance, right?

Ignoring the uncertain, suddenly confused look in her eyes, he moved quickly and pressed his lips to hers, spinning her around to lean her into the wall, keeping his weight off her. There was no response for several seconds, until he felt her breath hitch.

Immediately, he pulled away. He'd obviously scared her by his sudden actions, and the reaction of her remembering had apparently not come. He was going to hate himself for this then, for forcing himself on her. He moved to quickly step away, but her hand locked around his upper arm, nails digging into his skin almost painfully.

Her eyes were wide. This wasn't a usual reaction as far as he could tell, and he suddenly felt terrible for doing this to her. Hanna had at least kissed him first, so that had not been his fault, but this was. He cupped her face. "Granger," he asked worriedly, searching her suddenly vacant eyes, "Granger, can you hear me?"

There was no response, and he thought maybe she was stunned. What had he done? Glancing around, he bit his cheek worriedly. He thought perhaps taking her down to the hospital wing to see if perhaps he had shocked her or something may be a good idea, but immediately thought against it. How would he explain that? And furthermore, what if it was something else entirely? It wasn't common for people to remember ever living before, so explaining this to a school nurse would be an awful idea. The hospital wing was out of the question because he didn't know what to say and how to explain everything- but he didn't know what was wrong and how to help either.

His focus snapped back to Granger as she collapsed against him. Panic immediately started eating at him. What had he done? Was she dying? Were the gods playing twisted games on him because he possibly pushed too far? That thought made him want to vomit. Merlin, she had just better be alright.

The sound of voices caught his attention. _Oh great, the fucking students are coming. _There were four or five of them if he were guessing correctly, and they sounded rather young; first or second years would be his guess. They weren't even supposed to be in this section of the school if that were the case, if they were that young. _Now how to get rid of them? _

He gently lowered Granger into the ground, throwing his cloak over her, before he cast an invisibility spell on her so the students wouldn't see. Chucking her bag back into the small space she had been standing in before, he marched over to the front of the hallway and crossed his arms tightly, putting on an annoyed glare.

"You lot, you know you aren't supposed to be in this part of the castle! What do you think you are doing?" He glared down at the four Slytherin students who had rounded the corner, not giving a damn that it was his own house. They were definitely first years.

"We were just looking," one boy said, his stuck-up attitude reminding the blond painfully of Granger, who was currently, thankfully, hidden. He had a rather large nose and mousy brown hair that made him think more of a Ravenclaw.

"Well look somewhere else. These halls are for upper classmen classes and those are currently not in session at this hour. Go back to your dorms and remain out of trouble, or you'll all have detentions."

The big-nosed boy glared, and Malfoy knew it was an empty threat. He wasn't even going to bother taking their names, just glared the young students down. One of his friends tugged on the stubborn boys arm, and they hurried back the way they had come.

Once out of sight, his controlled demur dropped. Flicking his wand, he watched the unconscious Granger reappear. Worried out of his mind, he rushed to the spot he had tossed her bag and threw the strap over his shoulder, thankful he had decided to return to his dorm earlier and drop his own bag off. Returning to her side, he knelt and gently lifted her up, his robe remaining across her body. He had absolutely no bloody idea what he had done, or how to fix it, but damn it all if he was going to take her to anyone else and trust them to help.

Or worse, he could leave her there. Shoving that thought away, he moved quickly, a destination already in mind; his dorm room wasn't far from there, and since he knew naught how to get into Granger's private dorms, it was his room or the infirmary. Besides, could she really be that mad at him when she woke up? At least he hadn't left her out there!

They were both going to have a bit of explaining to do; her as to what happened, and he about why he had kissed her and begun this mess.

So long as he hadn't sent her into a coma or something stupid, he figured his guilt couldn't quite double yet. They had been in worse situations before.

Thankfully they reached his dorm without coming across anyone, and he whispered the password, slipping into his dorm as he heard approaching footsteps. The door shut before he ever saw anyone.

Depositing her bag near the doorway, he paid no mind to the fact that the contents of the bag as they scattered across the floor. He swept through the comfortable space of his dorm, pushing open the door and depositing her on his bed before pulling out his wand, casting multiple spells at once.

His heart hadn't calmed down as he took into account what the test spells told him; she was asleep as far as they read, and that couldn't be right. There was no fucking way the events leading to her collapse meant that she was asleep; it didn't add up! He ran the same set of test spells twice before throwing his wand into the nearby wall, ignoring it as it clattered to the ground near a discarded shirt.

Draco began pacing, glancing at her every few seconds as though her eyes would suddenly open. She couldn't be sleeping, not from the way things had gone, but that's what the tests were telling him. So if she really was asleep, then why? What prompted the sudden unconscious state? Never in all six of his lives had he seen something like that.

_Could I have… no, impossible. _

He moved close again and bent over her face, studying her. She looked so calm and peaceful; he thought it a shame to awaken her- if he could even. But staring down at her he couldn't stop wondering the same question as before;

_Could I have made her remember? No, impossible!_

* * *

Hermione was going to kill Malfoy. Not only had the prick dared to kiss her, but now she was in the middle of some strange vision of his again!

Except this time, she was seeing it through the eyes of someone. She had no idea who she was speaking to, just that the man in front of her hand dark black hair that reminded her a lot of Harry. He had kissed her twice thus far, and it was truly unsettling because she had no control of her body whatsoever. She was just observing and nothing else, apparently.

Oh when she got out of that vision she was going to kill Malfoy!

The problem was, this time there was no Malfoy standing around to go speak to. She was all alone, observing things through someone else's eyes whose actions she could not control.

What had Malfoy done to her?

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**A/n: **What do you think happened? Review! I left the chapter here to set up for a lot next chapter :)

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	10. Hermione's Thoughts

**A/n: **Tada! Here's chapter 10. It goes a lot into past lives and is kinda short, but I wanted to get something up for you readers. The next chapter will be more eventful! Enjoy! Hope you like it! Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

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**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

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**Part 1: A Large Problem, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

The blond rubbed his head tiredly, the wound Granger had noticed early yesterday still in place on his head. He hadn't bothered to fix it, and certainly wouldn't be anytime soon now that he had severely fucked up and sent her into a dream-like state. This wasn't good, and had captured his attention since the first moment. Now it was nearly time for class the following day and he had just barely finished preparing a plan that didn't sit too well in his stomach.

If they were both absent, that would draw serious suspicions from the entire student body, not just their friends, so actually staying with her was out of the question. It really put him ill-at-ease to leave her there alone, but he had few other options. Telling _anyone_ would stir up trouble, even his best mate Blaise. First, he could never explain this really, and although the Italian was great most of the time he could be a nosy bloke. Seeing as Blaise was the only option he would consider, that was out. So instead he had borrowed Granger's limp hand, used a sticking charm to attach her wand to her hand and had written a sloppy note to the Headmistress about how ill she was feeling and that she would not be attending class today. The note he had received in return seemed skeptical about this plot, but at least the old bat had not decided to pursue the topic. Granger had been excused from all classes for today; now he just needed to do something about her absence in her common room. No doubt those nosy Gryffindor friends of hers would go poking their heads in her private dorm and then get snippy because she was nowhere to be found.

Then again, he could always leave that for her to explain, but if she was in a bad enough mood upon awakening, she may mention his name and stir up a bunch of trouble for the Slytherin; he would have to think about how to handle this.

Sitting down on desk chair he sighed, staring at her. She looked quite pretty with her hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her, lips slightly parted as she laid there. He liked to believe she was asleep, and chose to believe that thought for his own sanity. Although truth be told, he gto the feeling he had sent her into some sort of memory that she was currently living out, and he wasn't sure that was a good thing. Could he accidently fry her brain with the surplus of knowing that reincarnation had existed, and that they had always been looking for each other?

_No, if Granger finds that out she will simply slap me and get the hell out of here. She can't stand me, there is no way she will even consider the idea that we were once in love._

_You're overthinking this Draco._

He sighed. There were too many possibilities to figure out, and he honestly had no idea what was really going on. This was new territory for him, this whole 'kiss Penelope-who-is-now-Granger and have her pass out' because he had kissed some of her past lives and never had this been the result. He was completely at a loss.

Glancing at the clock he scowled. He would now be late to his first class because of his thinking. Grabbing his bag he looked hesitantly back at her. No one would come into this room save Blaise, and Zabini would only come up to search for him but seeing as they had class together, that wouldn't be a problem. She had not been sleep walking- or trance walking as far as he could tell, and he had been up all night- so there were no worries that she might leave. The only real reason she would be gone when he returned was because she woke up on her own and ran out. He really hoped that wouldn't be the case.

Walking over, he kissed her temple then her cheek. _Be safe Granger; be here when I return. I pray to Merlin that I haven't done something awful to you._ Turning quickly and grabbing his bag, he walked briskly from the dorm, not allowing himself to stop or turn until he got to class. If he did, he wouldn't be attending class at all.

**Somewhere in the Contents of Hermione Granger's Past Lives, as Seen **

**Through Her Mind:**

**Life Two (unknown to the observer)**

_Dreu Antoine Malfoy (18) and Harmony Joan Potter (22)_

Hermione sat playing with a young child, a child she knew to be the daughter of the woman she was currently spiritually invading. The woman looked quite like her in appearance, and although that was unsettling it was interesting too. She now knew what she looked like with black hair, and that the person she had been hours ago looked like her as well. That fact was unsettling.

The child she was playing with was named Acacia, which she thought was a lovely name, if not quite unorthodox. The baby had her black hair but her father's eyes; a man who she was currently married to, someone with the last name Potter. It was Alexander or something like that. She had barely paid attention to his name, but the last name really stuck with her. Potter? Could this be a relative of Harry's, and she was playing the wife?

_That's ridiculous! This is_ _nothing more than a strange dream that Malfoy sent you into with that kiss! That stupid, passionate kiss. _

_Yeah… I've been in here too long if Malfoy is now passionate. Perhaps I only think that because of the horrible kisses this so called husband of mine bestows upon me. What was my name again, Harmony?_

She watched the baby play on the cool floor, exceptionally old toys in her hands. Hermione had begun to think all of this felt vaguely familiar, but kept dismissing the idea. This was some twisted idea of Malfoy's for Circe's sake!

Still, that didn't make her current daughter any les adorable. Acacia made the loveless relationship with Alexander bearable in her eyes. This poor woman appeared to have been screwed out of love long ago, and what with the conversations she had with this Potter fellow, had she had control of the blasted mouth, he would've been upside down, purple, with an angry set of large dogs beneath him until he decided to be less of a jerk. Really, that man was awful! She did not understand how black-haired-looking-her had ever tolerated him- if this had all ever been real!

Well now she just wasn't making any sense at all.

She had already been through a cycle of this and thought it was over; the first rotation involved someone with the last name Krum, a man called Lowell Malfoy, and herself as a Penelope something or other. It also involved a rather brutal death she hoped to not relive. Before, in that "time", she had been fine attempting to sleep when the current body she resided in lay down to sleep, but since being killed had started she feared closing her eyes again and having someone else kill her too. Being viciously killed was not something she wanted to relive; Merlin, it hurt.

Hermione had put a few things together since Malfoy decided to kiss her though;

~There seemed to be a Malfoy in both of these little times she had visited so far, both of which looked an awful lot like Malfoy himself. It was definitely something odd to consider, but she had to piece things together somehow now that she was stuck;

~She looked kind of like the two girls she had been embodied in, which was also unsettling;

~Thinking back, all the other strange visions/times Malfoy had ever shown her inside his mind, the blond men usually looked a lot like Malfoy as well, and the woman sometimes looked like her; and

~Between this time and the last, time had moved forwards quite a bit, but she couldn't quite figure out why. It had been sometime back in the 1400's last time, and it was now in the 1500's. That part would mean different _life_times, right?

Lifetimes didn't make sense though. This all started with Malfoy so it all had to circle back to Malfoy then. But Draco Malfoy was the same age as her- seventeen- so he had no connection to things way back in time like this. Were they his ancestors? If so, what good did seeing a bunch of old, dead, snooty Malfoy's do her? Maybe he had sent her into this mess only to hurt her head.

That didn't really make sense either!

She sighed and tried to focus on whatever was happening now. Her body sat straighter as an older man stepped into the room, dark hair looking rather greasy. She reached forwards (against her will) and grabbed the young baby before standing.

The man nodded to her, sneering as she stood. "Lady Potter."

She nodded back, tightly. "Sir Snape. What can I do for thou this fine day?"

He smiled, but it was certainly not a warm smile. "Thou husband is but going out for the night. He hast asked me to watch thou and Acacia." Her arms tightened instinctively around her baby. "He shall be back in the morning."

"Where did he go," she inquired, turning her nose up. There was absolutely no way she would be having that man in her home with her at night! She had no idea who he even was but he was older and he had the last name Snape; both were reasons to not trust him.

The man shrugged, and Hermione severely wished he would explain his name. "He hast business to attend to."

She nodded. "Then I shall be turning in for the night. Goodnight Alabaster," she said coldly, moving to pass him.

He gently but firmly placed a hand on her arm as she passed. "So early, Harmony?" There was something dark in his eyes, and she slowly felt her stomach drop. Something was not right here at all.

"I think so."

He sneered. "I think not."

**Part 3: Concern. 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

He had a bloody headache. Memories from his second life were hammering in his head, moving way to fast. He wondered why that was, considering he was not trying to focus on any specific memories; since he had remembered his past lives two years before, he had learned how to control the thoughts and memories so they did not disturb him in class; knowing things like that caused you to have to open up different parts of your brain like you never should, simply so that you could process those sorts of things and understand them without going insane. He had learned to master this art two lifetimes ago, so why should everything be bothering him now? Never before had this happened under these circumstances.

It made him wonder if it was a side effect to Granger remembering, but that would mean she would have to of started remembering in the first place. He had come to the conclusion that this was possible since he threw her into a dream-like state, but didn't want to get himself excited for the prospect of actually having her remember. He wondered what would even happen if she did. But for now wondering about things like that would do him no good.

Class carried on, and he soon lay his head down on his desk. This was one of the classes he would be partnered with Granger in, but since she was currently unavailable he found himself alone. Closing his eyes for a moment he fought off the notion to sleep, still entirely concerned about her, but drowsiness won and he soon found himself down memory lane.

_Lowell Belmont Malfoy (17) and Penelope Elliana (17), 1487_

_He watched from a distance as the prick roughly brushed her hair back. It was fairly obvious that the bloke had no_ _idea how to be tender towards a woman, and it showed on Penelope's face every time he touched her. Henry did not come from a family of gentle people, whereas the lovely girl at his side had, and he was harming her without meaning to. _

_Gavin sat beside the angry blond, occasionally glancing between his friend and the woman he kept observing. His new bride, Evangeline Parkinson turned Zabini sat at his side, making idle chit-chat with the young Greengrass woman at her side. At length, the man decided enough was enough._

"_Go talk to her," he demanded, catching his friends attention. Watching the blond pay so much attention to the girl was irritating, and if he was so intent on watching her he may as well go talk to her. They had already discussed the blond's feelings for Penelope in the past, and it was obvious how he felt. If the git continued to sit there and just stare though, he was surely going to draw some strange looks indeed._

"_Nay," he replied, watching the pair closely, "I shall talk with her, but naught so long as he remains at her side."_

_Gavin gave him a curious look, but said nothing and turned away to kiss his wife's temple._

* * *

"_Who ist there," she called out quietly from her bedroom window later that night, barely peeking out. She had done this with him since they were thirteen, so surely she knew who it was by now, but he was thankful that she was cautious about allowing strangers to climb up into her room._

"_Who dost thou think it is," he called up, watching her head appear. He could just barely make out a small smile as she pushed the window open and stepped back, waiting for him to climb up._

_In the years since he had started doing this climbing up the side of Penelope's home had gotten easier. He was taller now and could reach higher; had learned the best places to grab and which places to avoid. The vines had just continued to grow, and had become thicker overtime. He could now scale the side of the Mansion easily enough. Climbing over her windowsill he noted that the usually breathtaking girl looked sad and unhappy. He walked quickly to sit beside her on the chairs- which had never been changed- and looked at her curiously. She just sighed loudly and threw her hands up._

"_I dost not like Krum," she huffed, crossing her arms tightly. The girl had long since outgrown the blue pieces of nightwear, and now donned a simple purple nightgown and had grown into a dark maroon bathrobe, both of which clashed but still covered her enough. "He is but a dolt! He dost not listen nor care. He is simply stuck on himself!"_

"_I told thou that Krum is like that," Lowell replied, his usual tidy hair disheveled from the windstorm outside that- had he been three years younger- may have thrown him from the structure back onto the unforgiving ground. "He dost not care about anyone fere Penelope, just a beauty to keep to himself."_

_Penelope nodded tightly. "I know, but my parents keep pushing me to see him. I dost not want to see him! They declare that we shall make the best couple, but not I. I dost think it is but a lie." _

_He gently reached out and rubbed her hand. "Tell them so. Tell them thou dost not want him as thou husband. Thine parents are understanding."_

_She smiled in return. "Sometimes they are. Why canst he be like thee? Thou always understands me Lowell."_

_The blond man raised an eyebrow, wondering why she brought that up. As far as he knew, Penelope saw him as nothing more than a friend. "Why dost thou say this?"_

_She shrugged, looking away. "Because thou are always kind."_

_Lowell nodded before standing, feeling uncomfortable. Their parents hated each other, and wherever she was going with this conversation couldn't be good. Whatever he may feel for her would be overridden by family hatred and couldn't be allowed. And Penelope was just feeling lonely after being in the company of an utter idiot the entire night. Not only that, but he had seen Rupert Weasely gliding over to see her when Krum was absent. Poor girl._

_He couldn't even take a step before her hand had moved to snake around his wrist. He stayed where he was as she stood, resting her head on her shoulder. "Please dost not make me choose him."_

_The blond's eyebrows shot up. "What dost thou mean," he inquired as her face turned up to look at him, her pretty eyes sparkling._

_She tilted her head. "Thou know what I mean," she replied shyly, her cheeks stained red as she stood on her toes to gently press a kiss to his lips. It was completely out of line, and if he were to tell anyone she had done something scandalous like this then her reputation would be forever trashed. With those thought suddenly coursing through her mind she attempted to pull back, only for her head to meet a soft hand that gently held her in place for a moment before releasing. She pulled away and took several steps back, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her wand poking out of her robe. Her cheeks were still very red as she looked back at him._

_He was tracing his lips with his fingers when he spoke again. "Why," he asked her, eyebrow raised as she clutched her robe tighter._

"_Because thou feels the same," she replied, beginning to pace, "and because thee are too much of a gentleman to do so."_

"_Tis risky Penelope," he breathed, watching her intently, "when thou is being courted by another."_

"_And thou knows I dost not want another," she hissed, finally meeting his gaze. "I dost not want to be courted by Krum, nor Weasley nor Flint." She took a few steps forwards but stopped short of him. "I just wanted to see if thou felt for me what I feel for thee." She looked meaningfully into his eyes. "And I know thou feels the same for me."_

_He sighed, running a hand through his long hair. "Even if I feel the same Penelope, that dost not make it easier. Our families will never allow it."_

_She stepped closer. "When has thou ever let thine parents tell thee what to do?"_

_He breathed out through his nose. She was obviously going to push this. "This is different, thou knows his. This is dangerous for the both of us to tamper with."_

"_I know," she replied confidently, "but is it worth it if we both want the same. Lowell, dost not turn me away, for I see the unhappiness in thine eyes. Thou wishes for nothing more than the rules to not be there, and that thou could court me, but it will not happen with our parents. Please, be thyself and dost not listen to the rules! Thou never listens to the rules, so please dost not start now."_

_He sighed, and reached out to caress her cheek. "I repeat, this is dangerous."_

"_But it is worth it if we are happy," she breathed in return._

"_It would have to be secret," he said slowly, "until we are of age and can run away."_

"_Of course."_

"_Which means we must always deal with suitors without allowing anything to really progress."_

"_Yes."_

_He nodded, glad that she was at least thinking the same things as he was. They were already going to be in over their heads as it was. "Thou will tell me if Krum dost anything," he inquired seriously, changing topics a bit._

_Her face immediately took on an expression of surprise. "Yes fere."_

"_Good," he said quietly, reaching forwards to not kiss her lips but her cheek, since Lowell was nothing sort of a gentleman. She wished just then he did not always have such fine manners. "Then I see thou tomorrow?"_

_She nodded, smiling. "Thou shall."_

"_Good," he replied, kissing her knuckles before taking his leave. His visit that night was short compared to the amount of time they usually spent together, but that was okay. She would see him in the morning, and she couldn't wait for that- in fact, she may need the time to sort out everything that had just happened in her head._

_It wasn't until the dim lights outside of her home stopped illuminating the figure of Lowell that she shut her window and attempted to sleep._

* * *

_The following morning found Lowell walking down the street towards a café he often met Penelope and other friends at for breakfast. He rounded a corner and nearly collided with a mop of red hair. Being the well mannered Pureblood he was expected to be- for the racism in his family had not breached out to the poor yet, just Mudbloods, which would develop later on- he helped the man collect his scattered items before he even noticed who it was._

_Rupert Weasley stared back at him, that annoying smile of his in place. Rupert was a fine fellow as far as manners were concerned, and had never treated Penelope with anything less than respect- which was good, else Lowell was sure he would have to beat the git to a pulp. The problem with Rupert as far as Lowell was concerned was that he fancied Penelope too much, and could be a problem at times. At least the girl's other friend, Timothy Potter, didn't have any real feelings for the girl. The blond was at least happy that he was her closest friend._

"_Malfoy," he said, nodding his head politely to the rich Pureblood._

"_Weasley," he replied in return, not bothering with a nod. He was in too big of a rush to go and see her to bother being pleasant, but the ginger didn't seem to notice._

"_Were is thou off to this fine morning," he asked, in far too chipper of a mood._

"_To see Lady Penelope," the blond replied, irritated that the git fell into step beside him as he continued on. Could he not take a hint? _

"_Ah, Lady Penelope," he said, staring off. Lowell watched him with apprehension. He may keep his feelings for her private, but that didn't mean he enjoyed listening to other blokes talk about her. It was never anything graphic- thank Merlin- but it was usually enough to nearly topple him over the edge. And after their kiss last night, he felt even more protective of her. Now where would that get them? "She is the beauty," he continued, oblivious to the blonds souring mood. _

"_What dost thou see in her," he asked, wondering what besides the girl's beauty caught his attention. Did he know her at all?_

"_She is lovely," he replied, seeming to think that was enough of a reason to feel something for her, but Lowell just rolled his eyes; it seemed that Weasley and Krum both thought on the same narrow minded path._

_The git continued to talk, but he chose to ignore him. Hopefully the idiot would not follow him to visit Penelope, for then he could possibly lose his mind._

"_They are both pricks," he thought._

"Draco," someone said, drawing him from his sleep. He opened a bleary eye to see Blaise gazing down at him with an odd expression. Once he realized the blond was awake he continued speaking, "Class is over mate; you slept through it."

"Did I," he asked sarcastically, rubbing his head. Sleeping on desktops really wasn't the comfortable. Standing, he shoved his chair in and walked out, barely paying their potions teacher any mind. If he was fast, he could go and check on Granger before the next class. Without sparing a goodbye, he rushed out of class, Blaise following after a moment of indecision, figuring it couldn't hurt to discover what had the blond so on edge.

Neither paid Snape any mind as they left the room, but he had been watching his star student out of the corner of his eye the entire class, silently gritting his teeth. He hated that boy with a passion, hated what he had stopped him from doing and the fact that he was still in the way of what he wanted. It wasn't until after the last student was out of class that Snape snapped the quill he had been holding in his hand.

_Damnit Malfoy, you are in my way again! _Checking his roll, he raised an eyebrow and thought over the blonds hasty departure again. Perhaps he knew where Hermione Granger had been during class. Setting aside everything, he sat in his chair and stroked his chin.

He missed her greatly when she was not present.

* * *

**A/n:** Do you get my subtle hint? Let me know in your review! And don't forget about th banners for this story and others on my facebook page. I hope you enjoyed!

Okay so it didn't touch a whole lot on Hermione and her current state, but things have to develop and a few more things about the past need to be revealed before she wakes up. Don't worry! It's going to probably only take one more chapter after this for that to happen, and maybe the beginning of another. The wait isn't long! and no, I haven't forgotten about Ron/Draco having a conflict. And besides that, we still have Krum coming!


	11. Hermione Awakens

**A/n: **As always I have my facebook page with Banner's and such on it. Check it out! I also hope you enjoy the update! Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

Okay readers, I apologize in advance for the lack of past lives in this chapter. It deals a lot more with other things. Have no fear! Lots of past lives later on! And this is the only chapter with only one part, just fyi.

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

**The Game, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

It was just after the last class of the day when Malfoy was hurrying to get upstairs to his dorm, having already persuaded a house elf to bring him food in his room, that Snape rounded a corner and fixed him with a cold glare.

The action made Draco exceptionally cautious. Snape had proven to be just fine so far in this lifetime, and in a few others, but sometimes the blond got the oddest feeling that the Potion's professor could remember just as much as he did, and that wasn't a good sign. The two hadn't gotten on very well in the past- and considering some of the things Draco had done to his supposed past lives- it wouldn't make his Godfather very forgiving on simple matters if he remembered those things. But let's face it, when the man went after Hermione in the past he had to do something.

"Professor," the blond said, wandering past the older man. Snape still has his cold glare following the boy, a look that was only given to Gryffindor's and other houses during classes and meals; it seemed that Snape was only concerned with keeping up with appearances so long as there were other people around to notice his behavior. Draco was ever cautious of that as he walked past, constantly reminded of the person Snape had been. But Snape had not been punished for any of his misdeeds, yes? As far as the blond was concerned, Snape's past lives were ancestors, not past lives. So few people fell into the category of reincarnation that it was scary, and he was nearly certain that the man was not one of them. He had been entangled in too much for the blond to never have known that he was redoing life over and over again alongside them.

"Mr. Malfoy," the man replied, and Draco could hear the cold tone in his words clearly. It was the normal tone Snape used when they were alone. Raising an eyebrow, he turned as the man spoke again. "Where was your partner this morning?"

He shrugged, watching his professor carefully. "How should I know? Why don't you ask her friends; they talk to her a lot more than I do."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps that is a good point," he drawled, sounding bored, but something about his eyes kept Draco's attention. He seemed too cautious, too careful over just what he was saying. He didn't like it. Snape had never started rubbing him wrong until after the war, when he had enough time to consider the man.

Draco nodded, before turning and taking his leave. Snape was just being odd.

* * *

He was pacing the room. It had been an entire day since Granger had collapsed in the corridor, and he had yet to calm down. What had happened? The best he could hope for was that she would wake soon, scream at him, and give him some sort of clue as to what he had done to her. The guilt was going to keep eating away at him until he knew she was alright and he hadn't forever sent her into a coma. He was supposed to be living to be tormented by not having her, not because he was thinking he had _killed _her.

_Or whatever this is._

At length he sat down and ran a hand over his face. The only other lifetime he had ever threatened her health or well-being was the most current one, when he had allowed himself to have an affair with someone who didn't love him, but the compassion. If he had only convinced her then to love him, _really _love him then he wouldn't be frantically over-thinking everything right now.

_Granger, just wake up._

* * *

_Inside Hermione's Head_

_1870,(Life Five)_

_Rafe Dax Malfoy (25) and Hannelore Marie Hollingberry (30)_

Hermione was quite afraid of some of the things she had been experiencing. Some of these woman had gone through traumatic things; none had been killed save for the first one, and she still did not fully understand that, but had realized ages ago that she was not seeing the full lives of these women, just snippets.

It did not pass by her though that they all looked relatively the same, and they all seemed strikingly like her in certain aspects. For one thing, they all read. But several of them seemed to not understand the first thing about choosing a husband.

Another thing she noted was that sometimes the last names of people were the same as some of the Hogwarts students she attended classes with. Were these their ancestors? And how had Malfoy constructed something to this degree?

She had given up some time back in the third cycle of this mess about fully understand this. It was truly unsettling to die as one person and wake as another, be it a full grown woman or someone small who grew up through a childhood setting that was so different than what she had ever been accustomed to.

The strangest thing of all though, was that she was beginning to understand. She would fall asleep one night as one person and wake the next in the same body, remembering far more things than had been told to her. Now how had that happened?

One idea stood out, but she refused to acknowledge it. Really, it was positively insane and considering that Malfoy was behind this, she had to assume that there was some sort of hidden trick waiting to spring out at her. But what? He couldn't be fully enjoying this spectacle if he wasn't even present for it. This was not like in class when their eyes would meet and he would propel her someplace inside his mind. There was no blond git to hold onto, to keep her sane and remind her of reality.

She was completely stuck until she discovered a way out, be this his mind or something he forced into her own. Whatever was going on, she would need to kill him for it.

The door to the bedroom swung open, and she whipped her head around at the sound. Inside, Hermione seethed. Just last night he had accused this woman- Hannelore Hollingberry- of cheating and had practically raped her. She was in no mood to deal with the bastard again, but it appeared she had very little say in the matter. The body she was in immediately sprang up, and she had to have an internal battle to resist the urge to try and take control; that hope was useless, for she appeared to be nothing more than a bystander and couldn't even control her body, or the girl's body.

"I am most sorry," the man says, stepping forwards to play with her hair. Hermione felt the body stiffen, and knew it was only the reaction to what this charming husband of hers was capable of doing. This woman needed to run away! Even the Malfoy look alike she had been cheating with was better than this!

And now that she thought about it, all the blond men in these 'lifetimes' she had encountered had lots of blond hair… and were all named Malfoy…

The man was still talking but she wasn't listening anymore; her head was spinning.

_They are all Malfoy's and each girl I live inside of has some sort of deep feelings for those men… they look like me, only varied… and they are all from different periods in time. What the fuck?! Are these supposed to be my past selves or something, because I'm certain I would never be stupid enough to feel something like that for Malfoy!_

And that's when she began to feel the familiar sensation of being pulled from these strange visions.

* * *

Draco was staring down at his hands, trying to figure out what to do, when Hermione cracked her eyes open. She had a splitting headache, her body hurt and her eyelids felt remarkably heavy. She reached a hand up to her throbbing head and groaned slightly, not taking in any of her surroundings as she caught the blonds attention.

His breath caught as he snapped his head up. She was certainly awake, but had obviously not yet seen him. He stood cautiously, ignoring the dominate urge to jump on the bed and kiss her in relief, and slowly walked towards her. The creaking floorboards snapped her eyes open and she shoved into a sitting position, not at all thinking about the rush it would send to her thumping head. She fumbled around on the mattress for her wand, as she spotted Malfoy across the room, who had paused in his steps and was now staring at her with the strangest of expressions.

When she realized her wand was nowhere near her, she stopped searching and glared. "Where am I?"

"My rooms," he said simply, watching her eyes widen. "Don't get the wrong idea Granger, you collapsed in the corridors and I decided to not leave you there for unforgiving students to find."

"Then why didn't you take me to the hospital wing," she said, rubbing her head. She was in Malfoy's room wandless; something was up and she would be damned before she calmed down and let him get away without answering anything.

"Convenience of location," he lied. They may have been closer to his rooms then hers, but the hospital wing had still been closer than that; he just couldn't chance letting anything get out. The situation was messed up enough.

"I'm sure if you bothered to move me up here then you could've moved me there!" He stepped closer when she said this, watching her grip her head in pain as thoughts continued to swirl. She was arguing with Malfoy while random thoughts of all those other blond Malfoy's danced in her head. No wonder her head hurt!

"Are you alright Granger," he asked, fighting down the concern in his voice. Why was she looking at him so strangely?

Hermione paused. That look in his eyes, the look that had flashed just across them when he spoke, was the same look she remembered seconds before he kissed her and the world went black. She shoved herself back into the pillows some and he stopped walking closer entirely. "What did you do to me?!"

The blonds eyebrows rose up. "Nothing!"

She scrambled off the bed, her head spinning as she moved too fast and the headache sky-rocketed, but that didn't stop her from moving until she hit a solid wall. "You kissed me, and now I've got these strange images in my head. What did you do? Curse me?"

He blinked, confused. Visions in her head? "What do you mean," he asked slowly.

"You know what I mean," she snapped, images replaying again and again as she spoke, her heavy migraine was increasing at a scary speed. "Why did you do it? What are you gaining by sending me through those images!? Are they, what, things you read about and created or something?"

Draco paled, which was a horrifying thing considering how pale and blond he already was. "What did you see," he breathed.

"_What _did I see," she seethed, ignoring her splitting headache. "What did I see! Oh, nothing Malfoy, except a lot of blond men with your name who all seemed to love this girl I kept embodying. Would you explain why I was watching through someone else's eyes, or is that only for you to know? It's also very _convenient _that those women resemble me! Did you put all of them in awful situations to spite me for being a Mudblood or something? Really, that last set of lifetimes was truly gruesome. Poor- oh what was her name? Hannah or something?"

By now, there was no color to speak of on the blond. "Hannelore," he said quietly, dropping himself onto the bed so he could rest his head against one hand. "Was that the name?"

"Yes," she snapped, thrown by the sudden stunned look on his face, and his odd behavior that had none of the arrogant cockiness that Malfoy was usually associated with. "So are you going to explain? Or will you save me the bloody problem of caring and give me my wand so I can get out of here?" As she spoke, an image of that first life blond- Lowell- flashed through her mind, sitting in the same position that Malfoy was now. She shook her head, gently reaching up to rub the throbbing part of her body. Why was the headache so terrible?

"Granger…" he said quietly, trailing off. He didn't know what to say. She knew the name of one of her past lives, in fact she could remember that it had been far from pleasant. Never had he been faced with this dilemma, nor had he ever allowed himself to consider how he would go about explaining this to her if she ever did remember. How could he? If he considered how life would be once she did remember, then it would hurt him more every single time he lost her to another. Faced with the idea of trying to explain it all to her now, he found himself at a loss of words, and he knew she was standing there, glaring, expecting some sort of crude laugh and a lot of gloating about how he tricked her. Well that sort of answer wasn't going to come, and he knew it was not likely that she would just up and believe that they were her memories too, and she would understand things that he never had. Like, for instance, what led to her impending death in their first lives.

When he finally looked back up at her, she had a slightly uncertain expression on her face, like the one he was wearing as well. She wasn't sure what to think now that he was hesitating, and he couldn't decide what to say that wouldn't make her temper worse. Stuck in a bubble of indecision, both teens remained silent, hoping the other would speak first.

At length, it was Hermione that took the initiative. "Why are you looking at me like that," she breathed, the headache still pounding.

He shook his head, looking away. "You wouldn't understand."

"I don't understand anything," she replied, throwing her arms up. "You haven't explained what you did to me, or why. I don't understand any of this and won't until you tell me."

He closed his eyes slowly. "What do you remember," Draco asked quietly, not sure what kind of answer he wanted. The dominate part of him wanted her to remember so he could stop this game, but the part of him that loved her knew remembering was a burden, and wished she did not know anything; still, he knew deep down which side he wanted to listen to.

She frowned, wondering how that could possibly matter at this rate. "A lot, I suppose. You gave me a massive headache Malfoy, be glad I remember anything."

"I'm just glad you're awake" he muttered.

"Beg pardon?"

He glanced up for half a moment before closing his eyes and looking down again. "You collapsed yesterday and I was worried you may have severely injured your head."

"Yesterday," she hissed. "Harry and Ron will be outraged! How will I explain this to them? Not to mention my classes… you better have a good explanation for this Malfoy or I will hex you to the point where you can't have kids!"

Draco looked up wearily again. "I will ask again then Granger; what do you remember?"

"A lot of blond men like you," she replied, before spewing out a lot of things that really appalled him. She mentioned their names in the past, the way they acted, the husbands she had endured, and the way she died- but not the details leading up to it. In fact, she barely skimmed over that topic, and only mumbled it at the end. Had this been a different topic, he may have been cocky and pressed her to say that louder.

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "It's not a joke if that's what you're thinking Granger," he said quietly. "It's as far from a joke as one can imagine."

"Then tell me what it was before I leave," she hissed. In reality, she wouldn't leave without her wand, but he didn't press it so she did not feel obligated to rephrase what she had said.

There was a long silence between them before Malfoy stood and began to wander aimlessly around the room, avoiding her eyes. "Do you believe in reincarnation Granger," he asked, rubbing his head. How was he supposed to go about this? The fact that he was going to embark on stories like this was stressful, and the notion was there to call her Hermione but he assumed that would only weird her out more.

She looked at him, daring the blond to look at her. "No," she said slowly, even as images of a dirty haired blond boy with dark grey eyes named Lowell flashed through her mind; the one she had felt the closest to out of everyone. He was so remarkably similar to Draco it was scary, and even now their eyes practically matched as Malfoy seemed to have an inward battle with himself.

"You should then Granger," he said, turning to stare out his window, "because you'll never learn from your mistakes if you can't look at yourself for guidance."

There was a small gap in time in which she said nothing. "Excuse me?"

He sighed. "Those women were you Granger; why do you think you saw through their eyes? They are the five lifetimes- excluding this one- that you have lived with me."

She narrowed her eyes, inching closer to him but stopping short of him. Half of her wanted to run while the other half only wanted to slap some sense into him. "Are you crazy?"

He chuckled darkly. "People aren't supposed to be reincarnated Granger, it does things to you. Reincarnation is a path few souls chose to take after death, simply because life had a funny way of never being as good the second time around."

"You're making this up," she spat, glancing around wildly. There were too many things in her head, too many visions up take in along with Malfoy's words. He was trying to severely fuck up her mind; she was sure of it.

He glanced over his shoulder, catching her eyes. "Am I?"

Instinctively, she reached out and gave him a rough shove, making the blond stumble on his feet. He turned to face her, and the expression on his faced stunned her; the blond looked completely, utterly sad. "Quit playing games Malfoy," she yelled, deciding to ignore the look on his features, "this isn't funny!"

"No," he agreed, "it's not."

She shook her head. "Give me my wand; stop playing these bloody games. I am leaving right now!"

She expected a fight; she expected him to elaborate on his lie and truly mess with her mind, but instead he only reached into his pocket and held out her wand. She was hesitant to take it, thrown by his bizarre behavior.

When he didn't speak again, she took that as a sign. Turning quickly, she hurried out of his room, not shutting the door. She wanted him to stop her and tell her something else, or at least press the matter, but he did nothing and allowed her to walk out of his dorm without another word.

The scary thing she realized, as she wandered away, was that his lack of denial was the thing pushing her to believe him. But what was there to believe?

Hermione hurried off, not sparing a backwards glance. Had she, she would've seen the distressed form of Malfoy standing in the doorway, his heart breaking.

_She knows and still she cannot stand you. There's no hope in this game anymore._

* * *

Hermione and Draco did not speak again for nearly two weeks. He noted that she seemed a bit off when she was around friends, but kept trying to discard her from his mind. He didn't know how to go about pressing the matter, and didn't want her screaming at him again that it was all a lie. That had possibly hurt more than when she had married other men. At least then she had not known, and had not outright denied him.

She on the other hand could not stop monitoring the blond. The first two days after she had left his room, he had seemed oddly depressed, but the third day she had thought he had been cutting. It wasn't until she fell asleep in her free hour that day that she realized why; it was November 26, the day she died in the first life. But why would that matter so much? She didn't understand.

Try as she may, she could not force his words from her mind. And that was odd to consider. When had Malfoy ever really given her a reason to believe a word he said? Granted, now she had these multiple images dancing in her head at all hours of the day, but still; they were images, not reasons to trust him.

As far as the reincarnation bit went, she had read herself to the brim of insanity through countless books in the library at every chance she got. Reincarnation had never been something she really bothered with until recently, and now she found herself drawn to the topic. Was she really going to trust him? Well, the only way to do that would be to talk to the blond, which would have to wait. She would be going to Hogsmeade in just two days with Harry and Ron to see Viktor, and Malfoy wouldn't be along for that.

In fact, she vaguely recalled nearly marrying an ancestor of his. She shuddered, knowing now that nothing would truly ever happen between them because it was just too creepy to consider. If any of this were real though, Malfoy would be unhappy considering he was the only candidate to be Lowell Malfoy in that life. The two men had hated each other, and if he found out she really did intend to go see him it would be awful.

_Listen to yourself Hermione, you're letting yourself believe that shit was real! It was a game of Malfoy's, nothing more. Stop focusing on it and go and enjoy your Hogsmeade weekend with your friends. One of the bars allows seventh years in, perhaps you can forget your problems there. Yes, that's a fine idea._

Despite the great idea, she still found herself biting her nails. There was a feeling of familiarity around Malfoy- she had noticed since she saw these 'supposed' past lifetimes of theirs- that existed around no one else. Did she really care if she bothered him that much? Honestly she didn't know.

They were currently sitting in potions as usual, and today she was feeling the uncanny notion of being watched. She was certain that it wasn't Malfoy- who had been attempting to ignore her since the event without success- but who then?

Glancing up from her paper, she looked around. All the students were either talking amongst themselves or working. She was about to return to her work when she caught Professor Snape staring at her. Now that was odd, since the cold look in his eyes was filled with something else as well.

She felt her chair being pulled slightly, and in a moment it was pressed firmly against Draco's, who still wasn't looking at her but was eyeing the teacher darkly. She decided to ignore the entire ordeal, for Snape was being creepy and Malfoy was still something she didn't know how to handle. Despite that, she took comfort in his close proximity, feeling the eyes of her teacher move away.

A few minutes later a piece of paper was placed on her knee. She glanced at Malfoy, but he paid her no mind. With a sigh, she unfolded the paper.

_Watch yourself around him. _She scrunched up her face and moved her quill to write back, but the pricks hand got in the way, and she looked up- finally catching his eyes- to see him shaking his head slowly.

Oh, they were certainly going to have to talk now.

* * *

**A/n: **It's kind of short but tada! Something happened and we are set up now for some serious major events in the next chapters. Yay! Hope you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts.

This is up early because tomorrow is Labor Day and I'm going to the Colorado State Fair! So I got it up now so it wouldn't be late :)


	12. Hermione's Friend

**A/n: **As always I have my facebook page with Banner's and such on it. Check it out! I also hope you enjoy the update! Big thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

I have considered suspending this story and What Would You Give to a two week updating period. I'm not sure if I will yet, but just so you know. Keep reading the A/n's for more information.

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1: Taunting You, 1656 (Life Three)**

**Omar Julian Malfoy and Annalisa Coralie Williams**

"I will be back in but a moment," he said, gently kissing his wife's hand. She looked tired, and that was to be expected, since she was carrying their fourth child. It was late 1656, and the child would not be born until the following spring. He patted her slowly growing abdomen, before waving chastely at his other three children, turning to saunter off towards his best mate, Talin Wellington Zabini.

In the years since marrying his wife, Vivienne Clara Greengrass turned Malfoy, he had come to accept that Annalisa was forever out of reach. It pained him, but what could he do? She had married the summer before he had, and only had a six year old and a two year old to show for it. There was no doubt in Omar's mind that Annalisa loved the man she had married, and any resentment had disappeared after so much time with him. Was it true love? The blond completely doubted that, but he would do nothing about it. He now saw Anna on a regular basis whenever his wife Vivienne would invite her over for tea, and would at least attempt to make good conversation with her. It was hard though- Merlin was it hard- to pretend nothing bothered him.

He greeted his longtime friend Talin with a curt nod, and grabbed his cloak to head out into the frigid air and have a smoke, when his eldest child and son, Salem, bounded up behind the pair. The adults turned to the eight year old with critical eyes.

"May I come outside as well father? I am practically a man."

Omar suppressed a smile. His eldest son was ready to grow up, if nothing else. He was so different from his younger sisters, whom clung to their mothers side as though life depended on it, and rarely ever spoke up to their parents. Both the girls, Levana and Pandora loved their father as well, but seemed to have less of a connection with him though. Pandora, the elder of the two, was merely seven and had been born a squib. Omar's father had ordered the death of the girl when they found out she had no magical capabilities, but neither parent had allowed it. Worrying wouldn't be needed though, for the child would catch the bubonic plague in only a few months and die, leaving rather depressed parents behind. Levana was but four.

"I think not," the blond chirped, glancing at his half Italian, half French counterpart. The French genes in the Zabini family line would be lost in less than a century, making the family almost full fledge Italians once again. The marriage of Talin's grandfather to a French woman had ruined their untouched genes. "Thou is too young and shall not be joining. Go and play with thou friends."

The child's face fell, but Omar held his ground. He would not have his son smoking at eight. When the defeated raven haired boy finally turned, Talin nudged Omar and they walked out the door, ready for a brisk walk.

"Thou wife is expecting," Talin said casually, pulling out a pipe. The weather outside may have been bitter but the wind was non-existent, and made the habit of smoking easy.

"Yes, in several months we think."

The darker boy nodded, tipping his hat a bit. Racism may have been at large in the muggle world, but in the magical world, no one cared what color your skin was, only that you were Pureblood. That was why Talin secretly looked down on Omar for his daughter, but said naught about it. What if the new child was a squib too? "I am most happy for thee then."

"And thou," Omar asked in return, raising an eyebrow. Zabini had married a young Italian woman some months ago, and the blond just had to wonder if they were going to start expecting anytime soon. Then again, one never knew.

His friend shrugged indifferently. "We shall see. We have been married naught a year yet."

"I married Vivienne and had Salem but one year later," the blond replied, challenging him. Talin only shook his head in return, unsure how to reply to his persistent friend.

"I saw Annalisa just this morning," he said, making small talk. Annalisa's husband Gary worked closely with Zabini on a regular basis and he was thankful that his friend could never read the expression of pain on his face whenever he brought her up. "She had her son Tempest along to visit; the woman is quite kind."

"I know," Omar said, looking other places than his friend. "She often visits."

Zabini nodded. "Thou wife sometimes tells me that."

Malfoy didn't respond, just kept looking away. It took several moments for him to speak again. "It is late; I shall get back to my family."

"But we have only just got outside."

"Ah… yes, another time then," the blond hurried, walking briskly back onto his entranceway, glancing over his shoulder. "Does thou wish to wait inside for thee carriage?"

His friend shook his head, thrown by the blonds sudden denature. "Nay, it is just over there. I shall walk to it. It was pleasant chatting Malfoy," he said, not sounding like he thought it was pleasant at all. Turning quickly on his heal, he walked to the carriage, ignoring the bitter cold. With a sigh, Omar entered his Manor again, not bothering to wait for his house elf to do it for him.

Why did he always do that? Whenever Penelope's reincarnated form was brought up, he either got angry, sad or antsy. It was a delicate topic for him, and when it hurt to even mention her the last thing he wanted to do was have to talk about her. But Talin had no way of knowing that, and thus he had left his friend confused and possibly frustrated, again. Groaning, he removed his cloak and climbed the stairs. The children had been preparing for bed when he departed, and should be in their chambers now, which also meant his wife had retired to their room.

His assumption proved correct, and he opened the door to his rooms to find her already changed for the night, propped up in bed to take a sip of water. Removing his outer shirt as he walked over to her, he sat on the bed and gave her one of his seemingly real smiles.

"That was short," she observed, tilting her head to the side. "Is thou feeling well?"

"Quite," he replied, grabbing one of her hands to kiss. Her worry seemed to dissipate at that, and she turned back to get comfortable in bed again. Watching her, he resisted the urge to sigh. She loved him, so why did he always have to love someone else?

It was entirely unfair.

**Part 2, Cold, But I'm Still Here, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

Hermione was in her last class before she would be able to meet up with Harry and Ron and head off to Hogsmeade like everyone else, and she couldn't wait to find Viktor. They hadn't seen each other in ages.

She was still wary about what had conspired between her and his… past self in the first lifetime. Viktor did not seem to be like this Henry character had been, which gave her no reason to believe he would kill her, but she still couldn't shake the notion that something was wrong.

This was yet another class she shared with the blond git, but oddly enough, he was nowhere to be found, which was good, for she wasn't sure she could handle yet another class with him; she still had too much to think about. One thing she could certainly tolerate was having space from the git. Their situation had been awkward enough recently, and since she had yet to tell any of her friends what had happened, it made it hard to cope.

But really, who would believe her? He had stuck her between a rock and a hard place, unable to find a way out. If she told anyone they would quite possibly think she was delusional. Harry had once gotten visions as well, but it was due to a truly dark, evil wizard. She on the other hand was dealing with Draco Malfoy, who was a git and a nuisance at best.

So really, what could she do? Frowning, she tried to focus yet again on the teacher in front of her, but found her mind constantly wandering back to the absent blond Slytherin.

* * *

"I'm excited to see him again," Hermione said, ignoring the biting air as she walked alongside Harry and Ron and the other students towards Hogsmeade. School was out, yet she still had not seen eye or ear of Malfoy. "It's been a while since we have all spent some time together."

"I'm sure he's happy to see you too," Ron grumbled, and Harry elbowed him as Hermione shot him a venomous glare.

"Stop it already Ronald," she chirped, glancing at the trees surrounding the path. They were dense now, covered by snow and the wind was lightly blowing flurries of it out in front and around them. "I've had enough of your constant pestering. There is nothing going on between Viktor and me, nor Malfoy and me or anybody else. I am single and that's the bottom line."

"Until Krum woos you," he muttered, and she either chose to ignore his comment that time or simply didn't hear it.

* * *

From behind the thick, snowy trees, Draco Malfoy stood under a concealment charm, watching her. He had absolutely no plans to speak to her that day, simply to be around. He could never trust any Krum again, and the fact that she trusted the blundering idiots to help her (or whatever she thought they were going to do for her) was outrageous. So he would make sure nothing happened to her, even if it meant his entire Hogsmeade weekend would be spent under a spell constantly monitoring someone that currently couldn't stand him. Lovely, just lovely. Could one not think of a better way to spend their time?

Glancing through the trees as the three passed, he couldn't help thinking she looked quite beautiful.

_Hello, I'm your martyr; will you be my gangster?_

_Can you feel my trigger hand, moving farther down your back?_

It just wasn't fair that everything he had ever done had to be thrown back in his face like it had been. If he had known that kissing her in this life would spark her memory, he would've planned things out, planned what to say, and would've tried to of made it all seem less surreal. But he couldn't do that now, and as they continued on he slowly followed from his spot, never letting her out of his sight. The heavy, defeated feeling that had resided in his chest since she blew up at him some time ago was still there, and every day it made him feel a bit more depressed. Maybe he should've simply tried to of forgotten her entirely and looked off to another girl; Pansy, Astoria and Daphne all came to mind.

She looked happy walking with her friends, and it killed him. He did not believe he could ever make her smile like that; he hadn't actually, not in this life. In the past, he had made her smile bigger than anyone else could; he had made her cheeks hurt from grinning too much; when Penelope's mother had died, he had made her smile about other things then too. But presently, watching her walk he couldn't recall a time when he ever got her to smile like that, smile at _him, _Draco Malfoy like that.

_When you hide, hide inside that body. _

He wished she would look at him differently. He wished there was some sort of emotional connection between the memories and her mind. If she could feel emotions that she once had maybe she really would believe him and she really would remember, and the cycle would be over.

But would she even love him? He had loved her for centuries; he had _remembered _her for centuries, which put things into a different perspective. Just because she remembered and accepted didn't mean she did or ever would feel anything for him. That certainly put a damper on things.

The trio made a turn ahead, and he moved to follow once a group of fourth years had gone ahead. She was still in his vision, and because of the biting cold he could see her lightly shivering.

_But just remember that when I touch you_

_The more you shake, the more you give away. _

Following the three was only difficult in the crowded town until they walked up to a crowded person, and the three pushed through to see Krum. Draco decided to head up to a set of stairs and peer cautiously down from there. The four spoke, and as the crowd of students realized the Quidditch legend would be paying them no mind now everyone dispersed leaving behind a few bystanders who stared on with unreadable expressions as Viktor and Hermione hugged; you could not tell what anyone's thoughts were due to that action, because they did not allow emotions to show on their faces. Malfoy thought that was odd; why did bystanders care if you could read their faces? The majority of the people were female, but was it really that traumatic? It was just Krum after all; he may have money, but Draco had money and looks. He could never get over his arrogance, even if he was humbled by the knowledge he now possessed by knowing who he had been in the past. Still, there was nothing appeasing about Krum.

His heart clenched when she leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, stepping back so he could speak with her as well as Potter and Weasley. It hurt to witness, and he was thankful for the concealment charm; children may just cower in fear if they saw his eyes.

_Cold, but I'm still here; blind 'cause I'm so blind_

_Say never we're far from comfortable this time. _

_Wait, another minute here_

The four teens moved to walk inside of a well-known hotel-like building- _but it was too shabby in Malfoy's opinion to be considered one_- and he quickly hurried to catch up, lest be stuck on the wrong side of the door. 'Invisible' people couldn't just go around opening doors after all.

The bitter cold outside washed away as he stepped into the warm space inside, but it only helped him physically. The bitter cold physically was gone, but emotionally and inwardly it was still there, freezing him from the inside out. And worst of all, he could do little to stop it.

Hermione could stop it, if she would maybe give him a chance. But it seemed that was never going to happen, and the cool temperature was going to continue to settle until he was cruel and heartless once again, just like when he began his schooling.

He watched the four sit down on some comfortable looking chairs and begin talking. The lower half of this complex looked vaguely like a cheap restaurant, and he wondered how a Quidditch star like Krum, who was used to the same luxuries like Draco, could tolerate a place like this. He scrunched up his nose and moved to a back corner where he could lift the concealment spell without being noticed. Sitting down, he rested his elbows on the table and leaned his face against his hands, watching. Something was beginning to feel a bit off about this entire situation. He had begun to notice it as soon as he caught sight of the trio coming from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade.

He had avoided his last two classes. Not to prepare to spy on Granger, but actually to get away from her. He had tried for space, tried to persuade himself that there was nothing he could do about Hermione's feelings towards him, but all it had gotten him was a lot of empty time to think of ways that she could die. Circumstances were lining up quite a bit like the night Penelope was originally killed, and he wondered if she had even acknowledged that. That had to be where the sense of dread was coming from; things were too similar.

He ordered a drink, then leaned back in his corner and watched. She looked happy, free, but only time would tell if that was going to stay, or if bad things were about to happen.

_Time will kill us after all._

* * *

This was awkward to say the least. Hermione was laughing with her friends, laughing with Viktor and Harry and Ron, and all she kept getting was flashes of another life when these same people had looked so very different.

Damn it; Malfoy had done that to her. Now, she couldn't even focus on her friends and had to constantly blink and remind herself that Viktor Krum was very different from Henry Krum. The scene in front of her kept changing to a time when Ron had been Rupert and Harry had been Dennis.

_Merlin, I've lost my mind! I blame Malfoy for this. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be seeing any of this. He must think this is quite funny. Rupert and Dennis… as if. None of what he showed me was real, and I need to accept that before I let my mind run away with me again. This is my weekend to spend with my friends I just need to get rid of those thoughts until Monday and then I can resume pondering Malfoy's fucking game. What is the point of this? I can't believe I haven't figured it out yet! But there is one thing I know; none of it was real. Simple as that. _

She took a bigger sip of her drink. They were not to the wizarding club yet that served seventh years alcohol, so she had no worries about how much she consumed. It would be tonight when she needed to watch herself. Ron and Harry were trustworthy and reliable when sober, but the toxin messed with anyone and those two always seemed to go overboard with just how much they consumed.

Sighing, she rubbed her eyes as yet another vision of men dressed in fancier, ruffled outfits flashed across her vision. Damnit, she was not going to have any fun this weekend if Malfoy's game kept messing with her head.

She looked around, doing a double take at a corner. Narrowing her eyes, she frowned. It certainly looked like a blond head of hair was sitting there, and she was willing to bet that unnatural blond belonged to the one and only Draco Malfoy. Just what did he think he was doing?

A hand came to rest on her thigh, and she nearly jumped. It wasn't too high up to be inappropriate, but it did startle her. Viktor had placed it there while leaning over her to explain something about a Quidditch game to her eager friends, something she was not at all interested in hearing. When she looked up at the corner again, the blond head was gone. All that remained was a glass of something, and she couldn't tell if it had been touched or not.

_Can you feel that second hand, wrapped around your neck? _

She pushed his hand away, feeling odd. Had he been watching them? She had not heard him go, nor had she seen the blond come in. But she suddenly felt like his abrupt disappearance shouldn't be taken lightly, and she had the oddest feeling it had to do with Viktor's hand placement.

After all, her _'past selves'_ always seemed to be linked to this Malfoy character, right?

**Part 3: I'll Teach You, 1489 (Life One)**

**Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana **

She sat cross-legged across from him at the small table, trying to smile. The man in front of her could be pleasant at times, but usually had a harsh undertone that only came out when she didn't quite do _exactly _what he said. It was quite taxing.

Penelope was eating yet another dinner with her soon-to-be husband, the wedding was approaching, and each day she felt she died a bit more. She didn't love him- hell, she did not believe she loved anyone yet- but he was just too much for her. He could not hold her nicely and every single time their hands came into contact his grip was rough and dominating. He was going to be a demanding, rude husband.

About the only thing she could say about Henry Krum, was that he would never truly hurt her. Sure, he was obviously going to be rough, but it was plain as day that he felt _something _for her. What exactly that something was, she wasn't sure but she wasn't sure if she really wanted to figure it out either. She could not wait to escape to her room later that night and wait to see if Lowell would scale the side of her Mansion again. She enjoyed their late-night talks, for since the announcement of her planned marriage they had little time to talk. And in all honesty, when Krum was mean, she liked having Lowell to talk to; he was always understanding, and he would always defend her.

"Thou is naught happy," the man said, drawing her attention. Henry Krum was three years her senior, and although that was not uncommon she did not enjoy it. He was too blunt in many things he said and did- or at least, _tried_ to do. She was not that kind of girl, and was sick of the man attempting to bed her before they were wed. Did he have no decency? It was tradition after all.

"I am but hungry," she lied, taking another bite of the dry meal he had ordered to have prepared for them. The bloke seemed to lack taste buds or something; it was dry and made her thirstier than anything.

"Thou lie," he said, slamming his hand down on the table. Startled, she lightly flinched, but the action was not uncommon. What Henry lacked for in taste buds and brains he made up for in brute force.

"Why do thee think this," she asked, raising a delicate eyebrow. If Henry was a bore, he was also entirely too thoughtful. The things he sometimes made up for her behavior were simply ridiculous.

He chuckled darkly. "Because thou is only happy when thee is with the Malfoy heir."

"Lowell is my best fere," she defended, sick of the same accusations. Whenever Henry was unhappy, or knew that she had been with the blond that day, he always found a way to work him into conversation somehow and yet again reflect his distaste in the boy. "I enjoy his company, but that tis all." She fought down the feeling in her chest, and the thoughts in her mind that told her she felt more, that proved to her their kisses were more than just kisses.

They had kissed seven times in the past week alone; little snippets in time and late at night in her rooms when she should be resting. Moments that she held dear when this brute was around, always throwing his hands and hitting things. Those secretive moments, the moments that should have never happened but had. They had never even courted, and now she was engaged to another man. Yes, she needed to fight those thoughts and feelings down before she ended up saying something rather stupid.

He was saying something, and Penelope decided to tune in. "-will teach thyself-"

"What," she interrupted, thrown. What in the world was he talking about?

"Thou must learn where thee lies," he said casually, taking a generous bite of his food. "Thou is too… rebellious love. Society shall not enjoy this. Thou must learn to control thyself before thee becomes my wife, or I shall have to teach thou to sit quietly myself."

She didn't like the malice in his tone, nor the way his eyes had grown darker now that they were on this topic. His calm demur had shifted drastically and it didn't comfort her. Wetting her lips, she nodded, avoiding having to actually answer. It satisfied him and he continued eating.

Penelope got the strangest feeling then that she wouldn't be liking this marriage, and not just because she was secretly seeing someone else. She would need to speak with Lowell soon about him.

If she only knew how little time they had to discuss things.

_So fall into my eyes, fall into my lies_

* * *

**A/N: **Chapter 12 everyone. I have good news; next chapter we find out how Penelope died, so leave me your ideas on how she did! I'm curious!

Not lots of Snape here, but we'll see him soon and lots of Hermione/Draco/Krum coming up for you.

Did you hate the random italics? I bet! Those are song lyrics from Evans Blue, "Cold, But I'm Still Here". You'll see the rest of the song fitted into the next couple chapters. Why is there random new lyrics fitted into the next chapters? Because I think it'll add a little something to the upcoming drama and discoveries :D Hope you enjoyed.


	13. The Stillness

**A/n: **For anyone who was confused by my last note, this story has been moved to a two week update period. If I have time to write and publish earlier than two week periods sometimes I certainly will, but I just don't have the time to write once a week anymore :( But here it is; the story of how Penelope died. Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

**Part 1: I'm Viktor not Henry, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

Hermione played with the hem of her shirt. The outfit was nothing jaw-dropping, and had Ginny been permitted to come on this trip she probably would've made her change; jeans and a nice shirt were not the redheads idea of clubbing clothes, but they were Hermione's, and it wasn't like she had any intentions of attracting boys. Her mind was still too wrapped around her occurrences with Malfoy to focus on that.

She sighed. So far her time seeing Viktor had been… awkward at best. She kept seeing him in her mind as Henry, and Henry was a monster. Thinking about that past life Krum made her skin crawl. He had been demanding, vicious, and foolish, and although the thought was unpleasant, he was the complete reason she had died as Penelope.

What was she saying? Was she honestly going to fall prey into Malfoy's game now? Now that would be foolish. She didn't understand it yet, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Those images had given her different perspectives on her friends, and she didn't like it. She had actually been _married_ to a Potter at one point! And Ginny had been like her mother and had nine children twice! It was insane.

_But they weren't your friends. They were somebody else, or reincarnations… so they were different from how they were in the past or… oh! I don't know! I can't wait to get back to school now and make Malfoy explain himself to me!_

And just like that, her pleasant mood had soured. Why did he even kiss her in that corridor? It was all completely insane. Running a hand over her temples, she considered the idea of crawling into bed and ignoring everyone, but a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. _Great, now that option is gone._

She inwardly scolded herself as she walked to the door. She was here to have a good time with her friends, not bum around because of Malfoy and some memories. No, she would just have to ignore him and hopefully, her mind had been playing tricks on her earlier and she had seen no blond hair. That was the last thing she wanted. Opening the door, she found Viktor standing on the other side.

_But don't you forget_

"Hi Her-mione," he said, still struggling with her name. She gave him a smile, but couldn't quite look into his eyes. Damn it, that was Malfoy's fault too. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, and stepped aside to let him into the room. Her space was far smaller than the boys, who had decided to share a room and let her have her own. It was almost cramped actually. Viktor however didn't even seem to notice, and looked around for a moment before taking a seat on the edge of her bed. "Are you ready for tonight?'

Hermione inwardly smiled. At least he spoke good enough English to understand now despite that accent. "Quite," she said, as she continued to move about the room. She didn't want to place her finger on it, but something felt off about going to sit on the bed with him. "Are we going to eat first though?"

"Only if you want to," he replied, eyes following her every step around the room. She of course didn't know this though, since she wasn't bothering to look at him as they talked. Merlin, she was even brushing her hair again to avoid conversation.

"Maybe," she said, biting her lip as she set the brush down again and began to rummage through her bag for absolutely nothing. Why did she have to feel so uncomfortable around him? Memories of her first life- first experiences with him flashed through her mind but she shut them out. No, she would not start thinking about that. She realized then that he had been saying something she had rightly ignored and decided to try and catch the end of whatever it was.

"-ready? Harry and Ron and ready, we can go if you are."

Of course she was ready; anything to get away from this situation that was beginning to feel suffocating. Oh, she was going to have to suffocate Malfoy when she returned for this! He had made her feel uncomfortable around her own friends. Turning she gave him a fake smile she hoped could be accepted as real. "I'm ready. Let's go."

She made her way over to the door, but halfway there Viktor caught her wrist and gently stopped her. She gave him a quizzical look as he rose to stand beside her, looking into her eyes. She wasn't willing to admit that it made her uncomfortable. He didn't say anything, just bent forwards and pressed his lips against hers. Stunned into silence, she didn't jerk back. Too many different things were going on in her head for her to do that. Instead, she stood there rod still as his lips pressed harder against her. At length, he did decide to pull back.

_The more you turn away_

"I hope we have a nice night," he said, smiling at her. "Come on, they are waiting." Turning on his heel, he left the room as though he hadn't just done something completely inappropriate.

She watched him leave. _What was that? He can't honestly think I liked that, can he? My posture should've been enough of a giveaway! _She lightly shuddered. That felt too familiar.

"Coming Her-mione?" He had stopped in the doorway and was looking at her oddly. She bit her tongue to keep from saying something rude. The old crush he had once harbored for her was still there, and it obviously had no intention of leaving anytime soon, and the worst part was that she felt nothing but mild resentment towards him just then. Any of those butterflies that had once attacked her heart were gone now, and she bitterly thanked Malfoy for that. But should she be thanking him or planning ways to make his life confusing too?

"Of course," she said, snatching her wand off of her desk as she walked over to the door. She would simply need to ignore this encounter entirely for the rest of the night if she planned to have a good time. Maybe it was a good thing that they would be going out to have a few drinks. She didn't really like to drink, but she may need a few to put all the thoughts out of her head, just for a minute. There were too many things to worry about to stay sober, and Harry and Ron would never let anyone hurt her no matter their states, even if that person turned out to be Viktor. She stepped out of the room and shut the door, eyeing her two friends stepping out of their own room. Had they really taken that long in her room just talking?

_Then again, you do have that mysterious blond head who might be watching you too. _She shook her head. She spent way too many hours thinking about Draco. No, tonight she didn't want to do much thinking at all.

* * *

Draco was not happy at all. From his spot on the second floor of the pub, he could see everything. He had seen the four come in some time ago, and now he was unhappy to admit that all of them were smashed. The four had wasted no time in heading to the bar and ordering themselves some shots. He hadn't really paid much attention to how may they had, but from how tipsy Granger looked, he could rightly assume that she did not drink often.

They were not the only ones down there though. This place was packed since it was the only place that served students liquor, and he had seen more than one pesky Gryffindor join the group time and time again. There were Ravenclaws scattered to one side of the place as well, with Slytherin's dominating most of the dance floor and smaller, upper half. He saw barely any of the Huffepuffs at all.

He still didn't like how close Krum kept getting to her. If he thought the Weasel was an annoying pest then this guy was really awful. Then again, they didn't have a good history. _Even if the bloke doesn't remember it, it's still reason enough not to like him. _

He felt someone take their place at his side, and he glanced over to spot Blaise leaning against the banister as well, downing a shot of his own. "You look perturbed," he said, tossing the glass carelessly to the side where it shattered. Well, if Granger was smashed Zabini was going to either pass out or puke at any moment. Draco rolled his eyes. The Italian had never been a very smart drunk.

"Only a bit," he responded, still sipping at his whiskey. Not one of the more common Fire whiskey's, a regular whiskey. He found if he drank one of those then his mind would be far less cloudy in case he had to hex someone. His eyes remained fixated on the space below them, watching Hermione and the three boys very closely.

"You seen Astoria," he asked, glancing around. Poor Zabini, he would have an awful hangover in the morning. Still, Draco had to smirk at the git and how lightly he took drinking; that was probably the best thing about the bloke though. He was always so much fun at parties, and when he was sober he was great to hold a conversation with.

The blond shook his head, cocking an eyebrow. "No. Why are you looking for her?"

"She ran away with my cloak some time ago," he muttered and Draco, surprised by the answer, chanced giving the Italian a look. Indeed, he did not have a cloak anywhere near him, and at such a cold time in the year that was odd. Turning his head back to what he had been watching he addressed the problem.

"And why did you let her have it in the first place?"

"She was cold."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he sought out Granger again. Where had she gone to? "There's your problem right there mate. Good luck."

"Yeah," he muttered, and Zabini moved away from the banister again. Left alone, Draco had more time to sweep his eyes over the crowd. He had yet to spot her again and that was making him nervous.

He spotted a tuft of red hair, and instantly recognized it to be the Weasel. It appeared Potter was standing next to him as well, but there was no Granger in sight. Worried now, he set his drink aside and began his trek down the stairs, fighting off memories. Just because Krum had been an absolute brute six centuries ago did not mean he was the same monster now, although that didn't make the blond feel any better. If anything, he found his feet moving faster.

The bottom floor was far more crowded, and he had to maneuver himself between multiple people to get around at all. He cursed himself for having rushed down there so fast; he no longer had an overall visual of the place and had to just wander blindly until something caught his attention. And he really wanted to find her quickly.

_The more I want you to stay_

He walked the length of a wall, using his extra height to try and see over the people around him. He wondered if his head may explode if he didn't find her soon.

There; in the corner, through an exit door, that bloke was leading someone out, and he was willing to bet it was Granger. Changing directions, he marched over in that direction.

* * *

"Viktor," she wined, the cold air hitting her bare arms. "It's too cold outside!"

"But I wanted to talk to you Her-moine," he said. Somewhere during the last few things he had downed, his accent had taken over and in her buzzed state she found it hard to understand him.

"But why outside," she complained, rubbing her arms. "It's cold!"

"I know," he said, hugging her. The movement brought little warmth, since he was quickly becoming frigid too, but she decided it didn't matter and let him hug her? There was nothing wrong with it right?

Something flashed through her mind. _Thou will obey thee husband._ Quickly, she detached from his embrace, ignoring the confused expression on his face. "What's wrong," he asked, looking at her.

She shook her head, the alcohol having its effect on her. Her mind didn't want to function properly and suddenly the past and present were meshing together and she was very, very, confused. All she saw just then was Henry, yelling at her to listen to him.

_Listen to thou husband. Do not disobey! _

She shrank away from his touch when he went to help her hand. Instead of letting him help, she sat on the snow and rested her head on her knees. The action confused him. He hadn't done anything, had he? He didn't bring her outside to hurt her, but she was beginning to be a huge mess in there and he thought maybe taking her back to the hotel would be good. Why was she acting so odd? He wasn't trying to do something to her; he wanted to make sure she didn't make a mess of herself.

But to Hermione, it didn't matter. Too many things were swarming through her head and she couldn't put them in order. Was this Henry, or Viktor? Her head hurt. Alcohol did not make one hallucinate, but if memories kept jumping around in her head it wouldn't matter; she would hallucinate simply out of not understanding. Maybe if she took some time to understand what Malfoy had forced on her she wouldn't be stuck with the headache she now had. But it was too little too late, and she would just have to sort out her thoughts all by herself.

She was so lost trying to put everything in order she never heard the door open again, nor felt Krum move away from her to face a very angry looking blond.

**Part 2: Why Did You Have to Go, 1489 (Life One)**

**Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana**

Penelope was walking through the halls of her home aimlessly. In less than a week she was to marry, but tonight she would escape. There was a heavy weight in her chest. Her father believed she was to go to her friends that night, that her friend was sending a carriage to ensure her safe arrival. But that was all a lie. She had set no plans with anyone, and the carriage sent to her would be Lowell's, which would take her to their meeting point. They were going to leave it all behind, everything, and get out of there before they could never have each other. Once her marriage to Krum was said and done, she would have no means of escape. This would be their last chance together.

She knocked on her brother's door. "Who be it?"

"Thou sister," she responded, hoping her brother Isaac would open the door. She couldn't waste a moment. She wanted to say goodbye to everyone in her own way, since this would be the last time she saw any of them. She would miss them dearly.

The door opened. Penelope and Isaac had never been close despite how near in age they were, and the pair rarely talked; she usually only spoke to him when something was wrong, or at meals. "What is it," he asked, looking her up and down. Before she had even gotten the chance to speak he had already assumed it was not the latter.

"I shall go soon to see my friend," she said, speaking vaguely. She didn't want to say names at all.

He raised an eyebrow. "I know." It was not like Penelope to announce what she was doing, much less bid the elder boy farewell when she went off to visit friends. "Did thou need something then?"

She shook her head, loose curls flying around. "I just came to say goodbye."

His eyebrow remained up. "Thou is only going for the weekend."

"I know," she said, looking down. Half a moment later, she threw her arms around him. Stunned, her brother joined in; they rarely hugged.

"What is wrong," he asked again, worried. She was acting strange. But when she pulled back, she just gave him a sad smile.

"Nothing," she breathed, before turning and hurrying down the hall. Confused, he remained behind and watched her go. He didn't understand what that had been about. Watching her hurry down the hall, he contemplated following her and demanding to know what was wrong. But his sister had always been an odd character, and he decided he shouldn't be worried. Shutting his door, he ignored the heavy weight in his chest. Maybe if he hadn't ignored the feeling and had followed her, then maybe he would've been able to save her life from everything that was about to happen.

* * *

She had said goodbye to her father too by the time the carriage arrived. Braving the chilly winds, she waited for the driver to come and take her bag. Had anyone thought about it then, they may have realized that it was odd for her to only take but one bag for the weekend. But since her family was not there to see her off for the short 'weekend' trip, no one was around to comment on it.

Penelope could feel her pulse beating wildly as she followed the gentleman to the carriage. Henry would be very displeased if he found out about this, and she had seen him earlier that day. It had been hard to face him, knowing he would probably tap her cheek a few times if he even felt that she was trying to act out, and not say something about her departure that same night. But she wouldn't want him to know; Henry would not stand for his future wife running off. In fact, he probably would have gone off to find Lowell and put an end to everything if he thought her afflictions towards the blond had grown. Thank Circe nothing had slipped out.

They did have to pass his property however to reach her destination. She doubted he would be able to tell it was her passing in the carriage from such a distance, but it still put her on edge that she had to get close to his home at all; the man in general made her uneasy.

It was a fairly quick ride to their destination. She used a heating charm twice on the way there to block out the cold; once in the beginning, and once when she passed the Krum residence, having felt too many shivers coarse down her back as they passed. As they breached the hill she spotted a silhouette just up the path, illuminated by the moon. Slender, with a bag and some long hair. That was Lowell. Her heart sped up a bit. They were really going to get away.

When the carriage reached him, she was out before the driver could get out of his seat, throwing her arms around the blond, the pale moonlight illuminating it in the darkness.

"Thou are well," he asked, stroking her hair softly. She smiled into his shoulder, simply happy he was there.

She stood on her toes to reply. "Yes, just happy to see thee." He grasped her chin, pulling her mouth up so he could kiss her softly. She relished in the kiss, smiling against his lips. All her worries about her brother and father were forgotten as she stood there, kissing him in the moonlight. Just then, nothing else mattered. She was going to leave this place with the man she loved and chose her own life, and that was all she would allow herself to focus on.

He pulled away from her. "We must go. My driver is only taking us past the town limits before I apparate us elsewhere. It shall be but another short ride."

She nodded. "How dos thou know he shall not tell thee parents."

He smiled softly, an action she could barely make out in the light. "I have it covered love. We must go; we canst not waste more time here." She nodded a second time, and stood for a moment as he threw his bag into the back. That was the first time she heard noise breaking the constant silence.

"Dost thou hear that," she asked suddenly, looking around. Lowell's head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes, listening. There was definitely something in the distance- which sounded close to horse trots- out in the distance and they seemed to be coming close, very close. Maybe if he had not placed a spell on his driver for the night he would have alerted them of this. The blond cursed quietly under his breath. The steps were too close for comfort.

"Get in the carriage," he said, drawing his wand. He was both thankful and irritated by the dark. At least the approaching person could not see them, but he could not see the visitor either, and that put him on edge. They were well-known, and it would look very bad if they were found leaving together when she had a fiancé she was to marry in less than a week. From the corner of his eye he saw her silhouette hesitating, watching him. That was just like Penelope; trying to help. "Love, please? Get in thy carriage; I wish nothing to happen to thee."

_Cold, but I'm still here_

_Blind, 'cause I'm so blind,_

_Say never we're far from comfortable this time_

He could see that she was uncertain in her body language as she hesitated again for a moment, before walking the few short steps to the carriage. She had nearly stepped onto the single board to get inside the carriage when something hit the side and made her jump back in alarm. His head whipped around again, searching out the approaching source.

There was definitely the silhouette of a man approaching on horseback now, not too far away. He nearly told her to get in the carriage and he would follow, but whatever had hit the wood- be it a spell or something else- made him wary to get inside. The carriage would be a huge, dangerous, possibly deadly target when moving and would not guarantee that they would reach the town's boarders before something terrible happened. He wouldn't chance her getting hurt. "Get in the carriage love," he said, drawing his wand to stand in front of the area that had just been hit. As he watched the rider approaching, he disappointedly felt her move into position beside him. Stubborn witch.

"I shall help thou," she said, taking his hand in a firm grip for a single moment. "We shall be civil Lowell; dost not hex this man just because he tried to first."

He clenched his jaw. That had been the entire idea. He considered saying so, but the person was too close and he really just wanted her inside the wagon. Stepping in front of her he narrowed his eyes; he didn't like this, not at all.

The rider got off his horse a bit of a distance away, choosing to hurry on foot towards them. Lowell flexed his hand that wasn't holding his wand; maybe he could just hit him.

"Immobulus," the person cried, and the blonde's heart sank as he recognized the voice. Of course this would be the person to find them. He quickly put up a shield charm to block it, but the caster was nowhere through being vocal.

"Penelope," he cried into the darkness directly after the spell "How dare thee? Thou are to be my wife! How dare thee run off with another man?"

"Henry," she breathed, sounding horrified. She had tried to be careful when passing his property and his home was so far from the road, how could he have known she had passed, and who she was going to see? "How did-"

"Be quiet woman," he hissed, not sounding at all pleased. "I shall deal with thee when I am done with thy lover. Is this where thou went to when thee was too busy to see me? Off with Malfoy, whoring thyself out?"

"She did nothing of the sort," Lowell hissed, gripping his wand tighter. Must people always jump to such rash conclusions? He did not consider anything she had done to be 'whoring herself out'. She was too kind to do that. A light shone at his side, and he realized she had lit her wand to illuminate the growing scene. Across for them, Krum looked quite angry.

"Then why is she with thou so late, and not her husband?"

"Perhaps if her husband were less of a beast, she would be more inclined to be with thou. But thou are cruel, and I would not take pleasure from spending time with thou if I were her either."

"Thou are running away with her," he growled, "of course thee would not take pleasure in her being around me. Thou want her all to thyself."

Lowell shrugged, trying to remain in control. Krum had a fiery temper when it came to things he cared about, but so did Lowell. Things could escalate out of control very quickly. "She came to me tonight willingly, which she would never do for thou."

"Incendio," he cried, and Penelope was quick to shove Lowell to the side so the beam of fire missed them both. It hit the grass behind them and began to ignite, but she was quick to put it out while the boys argued. She did not like being ignored in their little conversation, but she did not want to step in and draw things out either. She just wanted to escape with Lowell before daybreak. He needed to stun the man so they could go, or she would do it herself in a moment.

They were still arguing when she turned back. Maybe she should have listened, but she zoned the conversation out instead. She watched Henry, waiting for his grip on his wand to go slack simply so she could obliviate him.

"Penelope," Lowell screamed from just in front of her, seconds before something powerful smashed into her chest. As she fell she realized he had to of put something behind his spell, and whatever it was had shattered against her skin. It wasn't glass, and the bluntness felt more like a rock breaking. She hit the ground out of breath but unharmed, her skirts hiking up too far up her legs.

There was a body at her side in a moment, and she didn't need the light of her wand to tell her it was Lowell. He brushed her hair to one side, her wand illuminating part of his face. "Are thou alright?"

She nodded quickly, conscious that her 'fiancé' was still nearby and armed. The moment she nodded, he was on his feet again in front of her. "Thou are so worried about me taking her away Henry, yet thou will hurt her whenever thee so please."

"Be quiet," the other boy said as Penelope rightened herself, snatching up her wand. "Thou know nothing of thine fiancé. Penelope, get over here; obey thou husband."

The girl stood, looking at him with wide eyes. "I am not thou possession. Thou can control me to do nothing," she hissed, keeping her wand in firm grip. Then, she softened her gaze as Krum's darkened. "Henry, go back to thee home. Go back and dost not worry about me. I am happy; why canst not thou understand this?"

He sneered. "Understand hat, my love? That thou are fine making a fool of thyself and I as well? No, thou shall not go anywhere with him. Thee is thine fiancé, and thou will remain here with me and only me."

She shook her head, taking a step back. "Henry, please."

His eyes flashed, and she barely had time to react before he was trying to off them both. "Incedio! Petrificus Totalus!"

Penelope fell yet again, finding herself immobile. She could not decide at this point if he meant to kill her or to simply get her out of the way. The smell of burning cloth entered her senses due to the second spell, and a moment later she heard Lowell speak; "Aqua Eructo!" The burning smell quickly disappeared, and she missed the next spell fired as she tried to wiggle her arms and grab her wand, which sat just beside her on the dewy grass. Wiggling her body just so, she was able to grab it.

No sooner had Penelope been able to wrap her fingers around the wand in a clumsy grip and unbind herself, did she stand and narrowly miss a hex. Lighting her wand again, she turned to face Krum who was not paying an ounce of attention to her. There was venom in his eyes, and all he seemed to be focused on was Lowell. Turning her head, she noted that the blond was not far from them, a cut above one eye.

She certainly did not like the look Krum had in his eyes. Lowell was injured and the cut seemed deep; he kept shaking his head as though trying to clear his vision. Instantly, she got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, and hurried over to him. She could practically here what Krum was going to say ringing in her ears, and that thought petrified her.

Apparently however, she chose the wrong moment to turn and aid him. The same moment she took a step towards her love, he began to speak, and in the two short strides towards Lowell his phrase was complete; "Avada Kedavra."

"No," Lowell screamed, watching the scene play out in front of him. It happened quickly, faster than one can blink; she had turned to walk to him, and then Henry had spoken that spell. He didn't quite move fast enough to shove her out of the way in his hurt state, and he watched in horror as her body went limp and collapsed into his own, which had been hardly a second behind hers; had he walked faster, the spell would have indeed hit him if he had only sidestepped her approach and not let her get in harm's way. Horrified, he sank with the body down onto the grass.

Everything grew very still, as though that moment in time was not ready to move on. He let her bodyweight drag him down, her wand falling uselessly onto the grass beside them. Her face was forever frozen in a look of disbelief. So close had they been to avoiding this fate all together; had one of them thought in that split second to pull/push the other, neither would have been hit. But no, they had both felt the urge to protect the other in that moment and had jeopardized their own safety as a result.

At first, he just stared down at her with shaky lips. The blood from the cut on his head dripped down, splattering lightly across her forehead, but he hardly noticed. He was too stunned to notice anything. How could he be holding such a lifeless, solid body in his arms when a moment ago she had been alive and active? That was simply impossible.

He had no idea how long he sat there, gazing down into eyes that wouldn't blink, when the shuffling of feet reminded him that another person was looking in on this moment of agony. Setting her body down with the best care he could, he stood and faced the man who caused this.

"Leave," he said in a cold, tired voice. Henry had lit his wand while the blond crouched beside that bastard's fiancé, softly crying. Now, all Lowell saw was a face of disappointment.

"She's dead," he breathed, obviously horrified at this revelation. His eyes were wide, and if one were to look close enough they would see his wand hand softly shaking. "She's gone."

"I said leave," he growled, but it came out more as a choke. Sinking back down onto his knees, he looked her over again. Her hair blew softly in the breeze, but that didn't make him believe she was anymore alive. He didn't look back at Krum again- couldn't, because he knew he would kill the man, and killing just made him feel awful. After all, Penelope had just been killed.

"Dost not tell them I did it," Henry breathed, and Lowell did not look up to see the horrified look on the man's face. "Dost not tell them it was my fault!" Stumbling, he remounted his horse and galloped off, not once looking back. Never, never had that spell been intended for her.

Malfoy didn't process those words though, and it wasn't like he would ever be around to explain to anyone what had happened. Touching her curls, he let his face crumble. How could he have let this happen? A series of sobs wracked his body, making him shiver. This couldn't be happening.

He didn't know how long he sat there, touching cold dead skin, but at some point he was reminded of the driver, still sitting someplace nearby. Angry, he pulled out his wand and dragged his body to its feet, trying to ignore his persistent cries. The man was hiding on the other side of the carriage, shivering. Lowell nearly kicked him.

"Get up," he hissed, fitting to keep his voice level. "Get up!" The man stood, looking shaken. The blond quickly pointed his wand and aimed, his arm shaking. "Obliviate." There, nothing fancy, just emotions getting the best of him. "Thou were not here! Thou were in mine fucking Manor all night. Now get! Dost let no one see thee!"

The man scrambled off, leaving the carriage behind. Once he was out of sight, Lowell forced himself to return to the body. On shaky legs, he approached the lifeless form again. He felt his jaw quiver again, but forced it to remain steady. He could not break into heavy sobs again.

Still, that did not mean he had no right to fall to his knees. Collapsing, he stared down at her, muttering words that seemed useless to any bystander that had not been witness to the scene previous. "I am so sorry my love, so sorry. How did I let this happen? How did I let thy die? Know this my sweet; I tried to save thee. I tried to save thee…"

_Cold, but I'm still here_


	14. The Memory-Jumps

**A/n: **I decided to make an early update for you guys so sorry that there aren't any responses to the reviews :( I hate myself when I don't respond, but next time I promise! Here's chapter 14. Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

Don't forget to check out my profile for links to other websites I use. Mostly I use my facebook but I'm working on the other ones!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1: Drunken Games, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

"Malfoy," Viktor spoke, addressing the new arrival. He noted the angry look in the blond's eye through blurred vision, obscured by his alcohol intake. "What are you doing here," he continued, that thick accent dominate above all else.

In one swift movement, the angry blond had Krum shoved back against the wall, a hand at his throat. "What are you doing outside Krum," he asked, anger imbedded in his voice. "Why is she here?"

Through blurry vision, Hermione was able to pick out Malfoy's face through her haze. Memories were still swimming together, but she instantly knew she felt more comfortable now that the head of blond hair had arrived, and that was a wonder in itself. However, she still chose to move back from the pair, wary now.

_Blind, 'cause I'm so blind_

_Say we're never far from comfortable this time_

_Cold_

"Calm down Malfoy," he said, holding his hands up. "I was doing nothing."

"Then why are you outside," he growled, tightening his hold, watching as Krum's eyes widened; he really didn't like him.

"She is drunk! I was but taking her back to her room."

"And then?"

Krum blinked. "Nothing! I was doing nothing to her."

For some reason, he just couldn't believe that. Keeping his grip on the man, he looked over at Hermione. Yes indeed, she did look quite drunk, and he didn't think it was very safe for her to be wandering around with this bloke of all people.

"You were just taking her back to her room?"

"Yes of course; why do you care?" As far as Viktor knew, Draco Malfoy was not the best of friends with his Gryffindor buddies. Why would he care what happened to Hermione of all people?

Draco let go, but shoved him in the opposite direction of the girl, watching as his buzzed arse stumbled and hit the floor. "Then don't bother Krum; I'll do it."

He sat up, looking rather confused. "You? But you don't even like her! Are you going to kill her?"

_Drunken people always seem to ask the stupidest questions, but no Krum, you're the only one that has killed her. _"Not at all; tell her friends I'm taking her back when you go inside if you so please, but I'll handle her. You are far too drunk to do anything."

He pointed an accusing finger past the blond towards Hermione, who was still looking on at them with vague concern; Draco had yet to decide if she simply didn't care about them or if something else was bothering her.

She glanced between the pair, as though trying to take everything in. If her vision would simply set on just one life scene, she probably would be able to actually say something. But no, the alcohol had a strange affect, and one moment it was Draco looking at her, then Dreu, then Lowell, and back again. She couldn't decide just who she was watching. Krum shifted in her vision as well, but only between Viktor and Henry. She wondered if she had not known him during her second life at all.

What was she saying, second life? Ha! Now Malfoy really had gotten to her! Next she would probably be kissing him on her own accord, and that could only stir up problems. Really, she just wanted to understand who she was really looking at.

"Granger," he said, and she noted the use of names. Yup, it was definitely still her sixth lifetime, and this was definitely Draco Malfoy who was conversing with her. Now why would that be? They hadn't been talking inside had they? She leaned against the alley wall, watching but hardly listening as the blond turned back and spoke to Krum again; they both looked irritated and angry. She didn't process what they were saying, but at some point Viktor huffed and stormed past her, leaving her alone with Malfoy.

It was odd to be alone with him again after so long. They had been avoiding one another for a while now, or at least she was avoiding him. He turned back to look at her, and she looked up to meet grey eyes that were indeed very, very familiar. And behind those familiar eyes rested the essence of a soul that had aged way beyond the expectancy of its years. From what she had gathered slowly since she started having her own memories of lives long over, people rarely remembered who they had once been. Maybe that was the problem with today's society; you're supposed to become someone based off of who you once were, but how do you correctly do that when you don't remember fully?

She shook her head, swaying on her feet. She was definitely over thinking things now. At the action, Draco stepped forwards, reaching out an arm to steady her. And instead of shoving him away, she allowed the contact so she wouldn't stumble into the ground.

The girl watched him sigh. "Come on Granger, let's get you back to your room before you trip." He grumbled, pulling off his cloak. He draped it over her frame and pulled the hood over her face, simply to avoid wizards realizing who they were; he didn't need the multiple questions of _why _they were walking together.

He turned and began walking, the brunette holding tight to his arm as they went. It was probably for balance, but he couldn't stop the warm feeling settling in his chest that she wanted to be near him, even if it only lasted until he dropped her off. So long as Krum wasn't alone with her someplace he would tolerate it; he had to. He couldn't just force himself on her now that she remembered. He had to accept that it would take time for her to understand things properly, and that even now she may never want him. That thought made the warm feeling rush away, and he inwardly wished he hadn't even allowed his mind to wander paths like that.

The walk back to where they were staying was brief- which he found to be a good thing, since she was dragging him down with her weight. What had started out as grasping his arm had turned into using him as a walking stick as exhaustion set into her body. He had never been so happy in his life to see someone's bedroom door popping into his line of vision.

"Granger," he said, shaking his arm a bit as they got close to the door. She groaned, but said nothing, and he took that as a bad sign. She couldn't just rightly fall asleep outside her door; if Krum had actually gotten around to informing her moronic friends like he suspected, then it would look even worse if he just left her laying there outside her door. Besides, he wasn't sure he was comfortable leaving her there, and sitting beside her would mean dealing with a confrontation when the others did return. "Granger, I need you to find your key."

She groaned again, but reached a hand into her pocket- someplace hidden beneath his cloak- and came up with a key a moment later. Practically tossing it at him, she returned to resting her head on his shoulder, her weight slouching into his body.

_Don't fall asleep yet Granger; just wait a moment. _He opened the door easily with his opposite arm, dragging her inside. At least she was light; otherwise his arm would be under far more strain. Adjusting her so he could guide her now instead of drag her, he padded them over to her bed, easing her off his arm and onto the soft bedding.

Her eyes opened lazily as he moved away. "Are you staying Malfoy?" A vision of Lowell flashed before her eyes, and she smiled. He only wished he understood what that smile meant.

"I don't think your bleeding friends will appreciate finding me here," he said, trying to sound nice, but the bitterness of his tone still crept into his voice.

She nodded, reaching down to pull the blankets up her body, but he beat her to it, wrapping her comfortably in the soft fabric. He knew as soon as she was sober tomorrow that she would regret letting him so close, but he didn't want to focus on that fact. He wanted to enjoy being so near to her. As he moved to step back, she caught ahold of his arm a second time. Curious as to what she would want, he stayed put, waiting for her to talk.

"Will you tell me about it," she asked tiredly, eyes half open. For a moment he didn't understand what she meant, but then it clicked; she wanted to know about _them_, about what she had to be remembering. Really, what else would it be?

He smiled gently, removing her hand. "I think you've had enough excitement for the night Granger; I don't want to hurt your head."

Hurting her head had passed a long time ago, way before she stopped having any common sense that night. Her vision was flipping constantly between different times, so she figured that justified as her head hurting. "It already hurts," she wined, sounding childish but at the moment she didn't care. "I only know me, I don't know you. I don't even understand you! So you should tell me."

The blond pursed his lips. Was this really a good idea? He didn't want to give her anymore reasons to hate him in the morning, but did he care? She wanted him near, wanted to know what their past lives had been like through his eyes, and who was he to deny her. Sitting hesitantly on the side of her bed, he cocked his head to the side.

"Are you sure about this?"

She nodded, smiling up at him. He loved it when she smiled. "Yes; I want to know."

Holding back a sigh, he reached out and tentatively brushed her hair away from one side of her face. He let his fingers trail over the smooth skin longer then needed, but he just couldn't help himself. Pausing to rest on her cheek, one finger touching her temple, he leaned in, breathing on her face.

_I am going to get hit for this later. _"Ready," he breathed, studying her eyes.

In return, she rolled her own. "Yes! I've been ready!"

Without replying, he dragged her back into the mess of his mind, prepared to show her glimpses of his lifetimes, his world.

**Part 2: Jumps in time, part 1**

**1539, (Life Two)**

**Dreu Antoine Malfoy (16) and Harmony Joan Potter (20)**

Dreu stared down at the little bundle in his arms. This was his son, Acanthus Alaric Malfoy, who had just been born days prior. Anastasia was ecstatic about the birth of their child, and of course so was he. Now if he could stop thinking about someone else, then life would be perfect.

But it wasn't working out that way. He had spoken with Alabaster Snape just days ago, directly before his son was born, and it had brought him back to darker times. That man had sought to harm her at one point in time, and if he had a choice he would have gotten a far worse punishment.

Then again, it was not up to him. Harmony's wonderful husband Alexander would need to report him to the new Ministry, and that wasn't going to happen; he supposed that was what happened to people when they chose to marry drunks.

He sighed, knowing that Alabaster had planned to visit the Potter household sometime that week. He only hoped the pair did not gang up on Harmony and her daughter Acacia, or he would not be the only one who had issues with the man anymore. Everyone who knew the woman would, and then the new law enforcement would have to be acted upon.

But, those were just hopes. He wanted her safe, but he had no way anymore to assure that himself. He was a married man, with a child and a wife to take care of. Unless Harmony showed up someday asking for help, he would not have the opportunity to venture out and see her again for a long time. He wondered if he would see her at all in the next few years.

**1748, (Life Four), part 2**

**Damian P`ere Malfoy (15) and Rivkah Tabitha (18)**

He held his wife close. Gemma was beautiful, and he didn't let his compassion show. They were out for a lunch with his best mate, Jayce Xavier Zabini and the man's own wife, Evangeline, but he was hardly paying any attention to the idol chat. His eyes followed the form of a woman just across the way from them. She was sitting with her sisters, an elder one he knew to be Nyx and a younger girl who was but twelve; he didn't know her name at all.

He rarely paid attention to anything recently. His mind had been drawn to Lord Donovan's daughter for days since his memory jump-started. In all honesty, he hated it. How could he focus and go about living when his entire focus was on someone who was off limits? It was entirely unfair to everyone, especially his wife that he had been neglecting in more ways then one for years. Their once strong relationship was now dragging along, and he knew she felt unloved. Which, was not entirely untrue.

"Damian," Jayce said, drawing his albino friend's attention, "would thou care for another drink?" He nodded to the pitcher in between the two men, and the blond nodded. When the Italian reached forwards to grab it, Malfoy stopped him.

"Dost not worry, I shall get it," he chirped, hurrying away from the table. So long as he couldn't see her his mind wasn't nearly as clouded and hopefully- if he took long enough- Rivkah would be long gone when he returned.

Retrieving more of their drink was simple enough, and he was almost crestfallen to have to return to the table; back to neglecting his wife and watching a woman who would never really look his way, how enjoyable. Turning, he nearly crashed into someone- a female no less.

"I am so sorry," he said sincerely, immediately swinging the pitcher onto a shelf as he realized some of it had gotten on her dress. As he shifted his eyes back to her he noted that there were two women in tow behind her- Nyx and the other sister he could not remember. Oh good, it would figure that he would encounter her.

Rivkah looked up, a small smile on her lips. "Dost not worry," she said, brushing half-heartedly at her dress, "it was but an accident." When he nodded, she smiled wider. "I remember thee; thou are Isis's son, Damian. We have not spoken in a long time."

The blond nodded stupidly, surprised they remembered him. Considering their families really did not get along, they had hardly ever talked at all. But instead of standing there like an idiot, he chose to speak. "Of course, Lady Rivkah," he replied, bowing slightly at the waist. She just smiled at his obvious discomfort.

"Perhaps we shall speak again," she continued, just as the unnamed sister, began to pull on her arm. Glancing behind her shoulder, Rivkah noted the family carriage. "But I must be going; sometime we shall speak again." With a final wave and chaste goodbyes, she was gone out the door with her sisters, the blond watching them go.

Never had his heart beat so hard.

**1865, (Life Five), part 3**

**Rafe Dax Malfoy (20) and Hannelore Marie Hollingberry (26)**

He sat at the front of the wedding procession. His sister Arabella was about to be married at only seventeen, leaving him and Edward to marry as well. He didn't know at this time that only his siblings would carry on the family, leaving him to go about this life alone.

She really did look beautiful, and sitting there in the seats he knew that she had chosen a fine husband. His best mate Destin Aiden Zabini would take fine care of his younger sister, and if he did not Rafe would be the first informed.

But he had no doubts in this marriage. He trusted it more than many of the other weddings he had witnessed over his lifetimes; this one really did seem like a keeper. The wedding itself was a short affair, and he was soon standing amongst the guests, watching the happy couple talk for a few scarce minutes before they took their leave. His only company now became his fourteen year old brother, Edward.

It was there in the tangled crowd that he spotted her, her head bowed and her son held tightly at her side. That wondrous husband of hers stood to her other side, smiling a fake smile as guests passed. He got the feeling something had happened again, and he didn't like that. Now if he only had some sort of excuse to get Robert away from Hanna…

"Go speak with Lord Hollingberry," he said suddenly, catching his brother's attention. Curious the boy looked at the older image of himself.

"Why?"

Raising an eyebrow, Rafe looked at him. "I shall buy thee a drink if thee does this for me." It sounded suspicious, but Edward wasn't about to pass up something free. Turning away, he wandered in the direction of Robert Hollingberry himself.

Rafe didn't move to speak with the bastard's wife until his brother and the older man had engaged in a conversation that moved them away from him. He quickly stepped over, touching her lightly on the arm. She nearly jumped from her skin.

"We must talk," he said, glancing down at the child. He could see it almost immediately, the hesitation in her yes, but had no time to wonder about it. He had set up this separation ages ago, but now he had to know what had happened to make her look so unhappy and afraid.

"Liam," she said, her voice small, "go and play with the other children. I shall come get thee in but a few minutes." Her son looked hesitant to leave his mother's side, but looked up at the large blond and decided it was okay; he didn't seem bad. Once the child had run off, he took her by the arm and quickly led her into a nearby hallway, someplace no one else was currently using.

"Are thou alright," he asked, concern thick in his voice. He didn't like the bags under her eyes or the way her lip quivered. She nodded slowly, but her resistance to voice an answer made him weary. His expression softened, the hard outer shell falling away, They were good friends and he knew something had to be really wrong with her, so he had to get her to tell him. "Is everything alright in thee marriage?"

Hanna nodded again, looking down. He knew it wasn't alright. Grabbing her chin lightly he made her look at him, his eyes soft. "What be it?"

She shivered a little bit, but he couldn't place exactly why. "He is but a monster," she breathed, her eyes wide. "Horrible, simply horrible. I canst not stand him."

He nodded, his fingers moving to rest on her cheek. He was tempted to kiss her, but were her husband to find out about that there would be hell to pay- and she would have to pay it. He was already endangering her by dragging her out there with him, but he just needed to know if she was okay, and obviously she was not. "What does he do?"

The girl refused to look at him, green eyes seeking out the floor again. "He hits me, because of thou. He is so angry about what he suspects; he takes it out on me."

The blond cringed, moving his hand away so he wouldn't grip her. That wasn't right; something would need to be done about it. "And thou son?"

She shook her head quickly. "I would never let him hurt Liam."

Rafe nodded, although he really didn't know what it felt like to protect your own child- at least in this life. His past memories were enough of a cushion for him to understand how one felt when they looked down at the human they created, and if Robert had been beating the child as well there would be no telling what the blond would do. He would certainly not take it sitting down though.

"Thou must not return home tonight," he said, thinking on his feet.

Her head shot up, as though reading his thoughts. "What are thou going to do? Thou canst not hurt him; it shall only make living harder."

He smiled gently, touching her cheek again. "Dost not worry Hanna, I will not allow him to hurt thee."

* * *

Malfoy redrew from the memories quickly as something loud banged on the door. Granger had fallen asleep some time ago, but he had been stuck reliving things he would rather not. Some of those conversations had hurt him so much.

"Hermione," called a voice, and he recognized it to be Weasley; he had to suppress a moan. "Hermione, are you alone? I heard Malfoy is up here with you!"

_So the foreigner can't keep his mouth shut? Charming. _Draco quickly stepped away from the bed, putting space between him and the frame before he cast a disillusionment charm on himself, moments before the Wonder Duo and the Foreign Charmer stepped through. They looked around, obviously having expected him to be there, but finding a sleeping Hermione threw them a bit.

"I thought you said Malfoy was in here," Harry said, his speech a bit slurred because of his recent drinking. "We left the party to come here and make sure she was okay."

_Yet you didn't think to wonder where she went in the first place? _He shook his head.

"Yeah, how did she get up here," the ginger continued, stumbling over to the bed. He fell to his knees beside her and studied her closely; Draco knew very well that the bloke was not that drunk, but he seemed to be borderline sleep walking just then. How long did these Gryffindor gits stay awake and practice? "She looks okay."

"So Malfoy left then," Krum grumbled, and the blond couldn't help but smirk at his tone. He sounded so irritated, and it was lovely.

"Guess we should get back then," Harry began, looking at his friend. In that moment, he seemed to rethink things. "Actually, I'm just going to bed."

The blond was surprised when his friends agreed. He watched the three whisper night to her before leaving, and had he been more focused on them then her, he may have seen Potter watching the spot he stood in, just before leaving.

_Now we're so cold_

_Mine, and you're not mine_


	15. The Note

**A/n: **Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

Don't forget to check out my profile for links to other websites I use. Mostly I use my facebook but I'm working on the other ones!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1: What Happened Last Night, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

Her eyes slowly opened to take in the morning light. The first thing she registered was how much it hurt. The headache she had already developed at this early hour was monstrous, and she struggled to remember how that had formed as she looked around for a clock. Reading the time, she groaned; it was just past noon. _Not so early after all. _She threw the blanket back over her head, willing the world around her to disappear. What had she done to deserve this nuisance?

Slowly, the events from last night entered her head; the drinking, her friends, Viktor and Malfoy. She remembered being embodied in a cloak, _Malfoy's _cloak, and hurrying back here. Panicked, she reached a hand out slowly to search for another occupant. When she found no body lying beside her she released a sigh; at least in her drunken state she hadn't been a complete idiot.

It was strange that Malfoy had been such a dominate part of her memory, but as she thought more about the previous night it made sense; the memories he had shared with her were brief, though she only remembered two, and they had seemed to touch on one, key subject that the blond was ever reluctant to say, even after he exposed her to the history they shared. Her own words echoed in her head; _"I only know me, I don't know you. I don't even understand you! So you should tell me."_

He hadn't told her though, not with the use of words. Each of the two memories she had from last night echoed throughout her head. His pain, each time they were apart, and the remorse that was buried there. She would never have known how he felt, unless she had asked him to show her. And show her he had; she couldn't help but feel a bit cold as she remembered how she had treated him since he opened her mind up to everything she had been missing.

_Never say we are far from obvious this time_

There was endearment there, laced beneath a cold, brutal exterior, a whole other side of Draco Malfoy- of Lowell Malfoy- that no one was permitted to see. But in all fairness, she barely knew the blond man Lowell Malfoy had become in this life- she knew his past self-better than his living self. So, with every other life aside, what did she really think of his soul?

_Tortured. _That was the best word for it. He was tortured with knowing everything she had not; dealing with everything she had not known until recently. Reveling in the multiple ways her past self-had died, she was open to a whole new side of reality. Few people knew what it was like to die, and although she had no memories of the afterlife, something like that had to exist for her to be sitting there now after so many decades, right?

She reached up, rubbing her head. All this thinking was doing nothing for her massive headache, although she couldn't stop. She was suddenly looking at things not only through her past eyes, but through his as well. Snippets of time that had been granted to her to see were now reflected before her, and what did she think?

_Perhaps I was too quick to judge him. _She may never be willing to say it out loud, but a small part of her now doubted her first thoughts on this whole ordeal; a small part of her now wanted to listen to what the blond had been saying all along, and believe him. It was an odd revelation, considering how much effort she had been putting into both ignoring and thinking about him, and Hermione Granger had never been known to second guess her original thoughts.

She rolled over, her head screaming in protest to every little thing. Hangovers were a bitch, and although she could easily go and find herself a potion to take care of the problem, she didn't want to; everything seemed like a massive obstacle. She was quite content lying in bed, trying to make the headache subside.

* * *

_Omar Julian Malfoy (20) and Annalisa Coralie Williams (19), Life Three: 1649_

_She sat on the porch, watching in admiration as the man across from her held and played with his two children. The family sat not far away from the married couple, holding their children tightly, the mother looking happier than the father when she looked on at her spouse; both equally happy when they looked at their children._

_Annalisa didn't know their names. She knew the parents, knew them quite well in fact, as Omar and Vivienne Malfoy, the prestigious if not stuck up family that lived not too far from her. Although both families were rich, she knew she would not be accepted into that precious little circle of theirs. Her mother had to marry that muggle man, Maddox, and her reputation was forever scarred. It wasn't that the woman exactly cared about blood status, but she did find it a drawback that because of her mother's actions people looked down on her. She wanted nothing to hold her back from doing anything, going after anything in her life, but it didn't seem she was given that luxury. At least she had found a man that seemed to care for her though, Gary, and he had no problem overlooking her step-father's blood status. That really was a luxury._

_From afar she studied the pair, watching as the mother hugged the younger child tight. It was warm out, meaning the child did not need much clothing; she could take into account how chubby it was, and couldn't help thinking it was adorable. The elder one by barely a year sat beside her in the father's lap, Omar occasionally bouncing the young boy to make him giggle. Now didn't they just look like a right happy couple?_

_She suppressed a sigh and looked away, letting her husband continue to speak with the man beside him about business. They had been trying to have a child for nearly a year now, without success. She could not keep the jealousy out of her heart that two very proud, often cold people were gifted with two children when she could not bear one. And on top of that, they were truly fine children. She knew those heir's would not die young like so many unfortunate others, because both of their parents had the means to save their lives. Would it hurt the pair so bad to donate a bit of money?_

_She remembered a time when she had been close with the man before her, and now she did not even know the names of his children. Where had the time gone? Looking at them, she felt a pang of guilt that she had not kept her friendship with the male as tight as it once had been. Her year away in another town had truly weighed their relationship down, that was for certain. For now, she needed someone to speak to about the husband she knew had only disappointment in her. He would listen, and would understand her pain- in the best way he could. But how could that man ever really understand how she felt, when he had two children before him?_

_Brushing back her long hair, she sat up straight as her husband gave her an odd look. She knew she must look down, and that was not acceptable. Never could she let him know how disappointed she felt in herself, not without making him feel shame as well. No, best to simply paint a smile on her face and keep going in life._

_Now if only that task did not seem so difficult._

* * *

"_Why are thou so sad," Gary asked her later that night, rubbing her cheek softly as they sat together in bed. Her hair had been brushed and washed, and now hung around her. He loved it best when she looked like that; light and free._

"_It is nothing," she said softly, leaning up to softly kiss him. Worrying him was not an option, and so long as she could hide her fears, there would be no worries. _

_She did not want to be childless forever._

_When she pulled away, Gary was looking at her strangely again, just like earlier when they shared lunch. Unsure whether or not he had begun to see through her lie, she leaned up again and kissed his lips, hoping to distract. _

_It worked like a charm, and all the words that he may have said were lost as he placed a kind hand on the back of her head, kissing her back as the kiss deepened. Yes, so long as he was happy and distracted, he would never see her pain or suppressed tears._

* * *

She awoke to the sound of knocking on her door. Groaning at the loud noise, she rubbed sleep from her eyes. What could this insistent person want, and why did they need to be so loud about their demand? Stumbling from bed as she attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes, she snatched up her wand, bringing the hangover potion she had made earlier to her; it was always good to be prepared. Noting that she still wore her clothing from last night, she rummaged through her bag for a bathrobe while downing the drink, still trying to ignore the thudding sound on her door.

By the time she got the door, the screaming had begun. "Hermione! Are you awake?"

"Yes Ronald, I am," she groaned as the door was thrown open. On the other side stood Harry, Ron and Viktor, all of whom looked far better than she did.

Ron, ever humble, was the first to say something. "I take it you didn't wake up early and down that potion we made, did you?"

She huffed. "You think?" She turned her back on the three who followed her into the room. They all looked well-dressed and ready for another day, save Viktor who looked a bit tired, just like her. They were just two peas in a pod, weren't they?

"Well, get dressed," the ginger continued, pointedly ignoring the irritated glares she continued to shoot his way. "We have plans! We are all going to go down to…"

She shut him out of her mind, sitting down slowly on the bed. Ron was a great friend, but she really didn't care where they planned to go so long as it was quiet. Besides, she was wondering about her dream.

As Annalisa, she had been dedicated to making sure her husband was happy, at the expense of her own feelings. They had two sons in the end, but why had this particular memory played in her mind? She could've dreamed of any of her five past lives, or anything about this one, but that particular, rather pointless part of her existence as Annalisa Williams was what stuck in her mind. If that was the case, then why?

Was there a pattern to what triggered memories? She wasn't sure, but it would be quite interesting to know. She could focus in on so many key points and analyze everything she knew. Merlin, she could really have fun with this if she put her mind to it!

_That alcohol really had an effect if I'm so overly happy about all of this. _She shook her head, trying to tap back into what her friends were saying. The weekend wasn't over yet, and she shouldn't be spending her scarce time here thinking about everything swirling in her mind. She would have plenty of time for that when classes started again on Monday.

**Part 2: Curiosity, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

She had never before anticipated sitting beside Draco Malfoy before until that first potions class on Monday. She could not believe how curious she was to ask him things, yet so afraid. She had not listened to him for so long, what would make him think she cared now?

Saying goodbye to Viktor yesterday had been hard, even if it was just until the next time they had the opportunity to hang out. The Quidditch star was a close friend, even if he seemingly wanted more out of their relationship sometimes; he was still wonderful company.

It wasn't until halfway through class that she even had the opportunity to look at him. Snape droned on and on for a good forty minutes, before assigning them a task and promptly sitting at his desk, quite possibly so he could attempt to ignore everyone. When everyone had gathered their ingredients and sat back down, she finally found an excuse to speak to him.

"You didn't grab any daisies," she said kindly, drawing his attention. The blond glanced up from his work, noting that he had been too distracted and indeed did not have one of the key ingredients to the potion. How silly.

"I see," he replied, detaching himself from all emotion as he replied. He turned without another word and went to retrieve what he had forgotten. When he returned, he was surprised that she spoke to him, again.

"You sound tired."

_That happens when you spend too much time considering what you have lost. _"I had a difficult time getting to sleep," he replied, wondering why she cared at all. He had been under the impression that she didn't care for him, unless she was drunk and stupid.

"I'm sorry," she replied, continuing to work. The gears in her head were spinning, contemplating how to bring up her next topic.

"Aren't you cold," he asked suddenly, drawing her attention. She looked up oddly.

"Not at all."

"No, you're cold," he pressed, looking at her as well. She couldn't quite place what she saw in his eyes, but he looked quite worried indeed. No why would that be?

"Don't be silly," she replied, going back to her work. She never understood him these days. Hell, she had never really understood him before either. When they were quiet for a moment, she decided to change topics, speaking again. "Did you enjoy Hogsmeade?"

The blond arched an eyebrow but didn't look up, wondering if she actually knew he had been there at all. Did she even remember seeing him? "Not as much as I have in the past."

"Why is that," she questioned, digging deeper. Maybe he would say something that she could use to ease into her real topic of choice.

He shrugged. "There have been far less stressful visits in the past Granger."

_You're so endearing _

She crinkled her nose. "Stressful? Didn't you go to that party down-"

"Yes, I attended," he snapped, and she noted the way his attitude immediately changed. Well, that filled in the gap as to how they met up… at least a bit. But now that they were straying onto difficult topics, she could start edging towards what she really wanted to discuss.

"Did you not enjoy yourself?"

"I would've much rather spent my time doing other things."

"So I'm guessing that means you truly dislike my company despite our history?"

He nearly dropped in too many pieces of the flower as she said this. Setting the plant down carefully, he turned and gave her a pointed look. "I thought you were ignoring anything that I had shown you," he said tightly.

She leaned in a bit, not enough to be suspicious to bystanders but enough to make anyone think they were in the middle of a heated argument, like always. "I was until yesterday."

"And why is that," he asked bitterly, turning away to continue working. She was a bit put off with how easily he turned away during this discussion, but she got the feeling it was because of something other than hostility.

Hermione leaned forwards on the table so she could look up at his face from the side, noting that although his features were tense his eyes were soft. "Because you made me see a different side of things."

He glanced over. "Don't flatter me; if you are trying to connive something out of me just say it."

She frowned. "Why would I be trying to get something from you?"

He huffed. "Please Granger, don't insult my intelligence. You're stubborn, just like me. You wouldn't change your perspective on something like this in one bloody night."

She tilted her head to the side a bit. "How would you know? You don't know what I'm thinking."

That seemed to peak his interest, if only a little bit. Lifting his head, he opened his mouth to say something, when his eyes slid over to the professor, sitting idly at his desk. Instantly, his mindset changed. "Get back to work."

"Beg pardon," she asked, thrown. Why was his attitude changing so suddenly? Her eyes followed where his had been moments before, and spied Snape sitting there observing the two closely. There were plenty of other students in the classroom who had accomplished far less meaningful things in the time both of them had nearly finished; why was he paying them special attention.

She vaguely recalled a 'Snape' from her past lives, an Alabaster Snape, but the name had not been frequent throughout her memories. Remembering did not seem to be a common trait, so what did she have to fear really? There was quite a bit of doubt in her mind that he actually remembered anything.

Turning back to what she had been doing, they worked in silence again as other students around them chatted away. Just as she was finishing, a note slid over to her, written in elegant handwriting;

_This is not a topic of discussion one should be bringing up in class. If you really mean to discuss this seriously you yourself will find a time where we are able to talk, without lingering ears and odd stares. _

She blinked. As far as she could tell, no one had been paying either of them any mind. Why would they? Usually all they ever did was yell or argue, after all. Picking up her quill, she scribbled a reply and shoved the paper back over to him.

_Tonight, after dinner. You can come to my rooms and we will discuss this, since you are being so bloody picky over something you started. Who is really listening to us anyways?_

He rolled his eyes. She really must not see it then, the way he looked at her. The blond had been getting a sickening feeling in the bottom of his stomach for ages now about his godfather, and watching him watch her during class only pushed him further towards the edge. He had hated Alabaster Snape once, and if Severus Snape wanted to walk in his past selves footsteps then all Draco could really do was stop him.

_You would be surprised who bothers to linger and listen Granger. Now, will you throw on your bloody cloak? And why must I make the long trek to your rooms? This was all your idea._

She frowned at his reply, but a single glance at the blond made her rethink his request. Well, if it would make him more lenient to come to her room instead she wouldn't argue, she just wouldn't wear the cloak. Reaching behind her, she grabbed her jumper and threw it on, giving him a look as she did so.

_Do you feel better now Malfoy? Now I've done something that you requested so you should do something for me, and come to my room. It would make me feel more comfortable._

He wondered just what the word 'comfortable' implied, but didn't think asking would be the best idea. Glancing up, he couldn't help smirking at the irritated look on his godfathers face. _It's nice to know I've irritated him, but knowing he i_s_ really actually watching her doesn't make me feel that fantastic._

Snape's eyes slid over, locking on Draco's. The blond couldn't help noticing how angry he looked. Raising an eyebrow, the man looked away, as though not wanting to give away too much with one look. The blond wasn't sure he liked that much either; it was all just very unsettling.

_Fine Granger, I will come to your room, just after dinner, so don't dally with your friends. But I do suggest that we stop passing this now; we have drawn unwanted attention._

She looked up, wondering just who was watching them. No one seemed to be looking over, or hurrying to look away, and she frowned. Just what was he talking about? She moved her quill to ask him just that, when his hand shot out and snatched the paper from right in front of her. She watched as he tapped it with his wand, the parchment tearing itself into shreds, shreds that evaporated into the floor. She raised her eyebrows; that was a new one.

Turning back to stare at the front she sighed. There was nothing to do now but wait. It seemed that he was very insistent on keeping this conversation hidden from everyone, and she couldn't exactly blame him. After all, who would believe either of them sane if they were heard discussing reincarnation to such extremes?

She was so lost in her thoughts she didn't notice the admiring grey eyes at her side. He watched her with a content expression, unwilling to believe that she was really ready to finally listen to him; he had given up all hope that this day would ever come.

_You're so beautiful_

He just wasn't sure how things were going to go later when they really had to sit down and actually talk about things. After six centuries, he wasn't even sure how to truly explain this to another human being.

* * *

"You didn't kill Malfoy today Hermione," Harry noted as they left class later on. She hadn't even realized that her friends were paying attention to her, when she knew very well that they were not the best students when it came to potions. Were they who Malfoy had been hinting at?

She nodded. "Yes, he was actually civil today."

"He must still be hung-over from this past weekend then," Ron said, nodding towards her. "Why else wouldn't he pick a battle with you?"

_Because we actually have more of a past than I think I do with either of you- or your ancestors, I'm not even sure those 'Potter's' and 'Weasley's' were ever you. _Hermione shrugged. "He doesn't have to be drunk to be calm; we talked about the potion we were making."

"Did yours nearly explode as well?" her ginger friend inquired, glancing at her.

She shook her head slowly. "No Ronald, nothing like that; but I can come up with multiple things you must've done to nearly make that combination bubble over. Really, this was a diluted spell; complicated, but diluted."

The ginger huffed. "It was bloody complicated! You had to do so many things-"

"Which were all written out for you-"

"Yes, in gibberish-"

"Oh look, there's Neville," Harry interrupted, stepping from between the two. He hurried ahead, leaving the bickering duo in his wake to catch up. They followed, but at a slower pace.

"Are you sure that was all you and Malfoy were discussing Hermione," Ron asked again, this time fully serious.

The brunette looked up at him. "Of course Ron; what else would we discuss?"

He shrugged. "I've no idea; I just thought I would ask."

"What even sparked the question?"

He glanced briefly at her eyes. "You just talked a long time is all."

"You watched me talk?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head, "I just noticed Snape glancing back at the two of you a lot, so you must've been talking or something."

Hermione nodded, slowing down as she heard this. Ron had noticed Snape watching them too? Had she been the only one really paying the man no mind? She rubbed her head, thrown by this. Had Ron noticed the note passing as well?

She found she couldn't ask him, not now that they had joined Harry and Neville. Besides, if he had seen he probably would've mentioned that as well. No, she wouldn't worry about it. She would simply only focus on how she was going to go about speaking with Malfoy about everything later that night.

**Part 3: Who Fills Your Thoughts, 1748, (Life Four)**

**Damian P`ere Malfoy (15) and Rivkah Tabitha (18)**

He couldn't get her out of his mind; not since meeting the fine beauty just days ago. Merlin, she had captured his heart, and he would never even have a chance with her because he was with another; he was with Gemma, and although Gemma truly was a gem, he did not hold gems in comparison to diamonds.

Why was he letting this stranger capture his heart so? He had a wonderful, new wife, yet his attention did not stay at home. He found himself returning to that spot more than was healthy.

He needed a distraction; he needed anything to break his mindset. But what?

His wife's hands were currently toying with the shirt he had yet to take off. He didn't need her to explain to him what she was after, for he knew, he just wasn't sure he could abide with his mind miles away.

She, however, didn't seem to care if his mind was in space. She was pulling at the fabric now, the little minx she was, and all he could even think about was she was not the right woman. Merlin help him.

The shirt was gone, and cool fingers danced across his bare chest. He closed his eyes, willing Rivkah's imagine to go away. But it only made matters worse. Without his eyes being open, he could imagine that it was someone else toying with him. And unfortunately, that got to him.

It didn't take long for him to flip them, placing her beneath him. Clothing disappeared quickly until there was nothing between them, yet he kept closing his eyes.

"Look at me," she breathed as he entered her, but that was simply something he could not abide by. Choosing to silence her demand by biting her neck, he forced his eyes tighter.

The only reason he got off at all was because he used the body of his wife beneath him, imagining another woman the whole time.

A woman he could never have.


	16. The Noose

**A/n: **Sorry it's a day late, but the last version of this chapter wasn't good enough to present to you readers. I hope you like this installment though and can forgive my tardiness, just a bit?Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

New banner for this and other stories on my facebook! Check it out when you please :) And my new one-shot "Forget Me Naught" has been written and is being edited. I hope to have it up within a month's time, so watch for it loves :)

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1: Tell Me Why, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

_Well I don't look like they do_

Hermione sat nervously in her room, which was ridiculous since she had nothing to be nervous about. She was going to speak with Malfoy, and decide whether or not she could comprehend the things he had thrown at her. The classes following potions had been a blur as she attempted to work out a witty way to make him tell her everything without sounding like she understood nothing; she had a reputation to uphold, she could not simply act like a moron. It was unheard of!

Still, she had not worked out anything to say. This topic truly stumped her, and that was a bother. She couldn't let him know that, so what was she to do? She only hoped that when he came upstairs he wouldn't think she was completely foolish for not understanding things.

Speaking of which, the git was late. He had declared to come up promptly after dinner just hours before, telling her not to dally, while it was nearly a half hour past the time dinner had ended and she was the only one present in her room. He really could be irritating sometimes.

She had been ready to start drawing out a draft of what to ask, when a knock sounded at her door. Hoping that Ron and Harry had heeded her word and stayed away for the night so she could study away, she stood and went to answer the door. She was grateful to see Malfoy.

"You're late," she said, raising an eyebrow instead of letting him know that she was glad he had come after all. Enough was enough and she needed answers. Out of the corner of her eye she noted that he held some sort of book in his hands.

"I had to get away from my friends," he replied, raising an eyebrow of his own. Unlike her Gryffindor friends that accepted any answer to a question, his Slytherin friends had a knack for being far more suspicious in general towards everything there was.

She nodded, taking that for an answer and stepped back into her room, leaving him to follow. She had a nice little sitting room here, stuffed with so many books that some were crowding her coffee table. It was definitely the room of a bookworm. She took a seat on the sofa, and he opted to sit beside her, just in case she got curious about the book in his hands.

"What would you like to know," he asked, relaxing. His nerves may have been on end, but he couldn't let her know that. He planned to be as relaxed as possible during this conversation.

She huffed. "Everything; it's not like I understand anything that keeps playing in my head. Did you know that I keep getting flashes of different times whenever I talk to people that I knew in the past?" She paused. "I mean, if I knew them in the past."

"If you see someone take on a different image, different persona while speaking with them then it means you once knew their past lives, probably under very different circumstances. With time you'll learn how to control that and eventually block it entirely."

She frowned. "How long will that take?"

"It depends," he replied with a shrug. "It took me two and a half lifetimes, but you're smart and you actually have someone to help you, so I doubt it will take you as long."

She blinked. "You're going to help me with this?"

He rolled his eyes. "Did you learn nothing from those memories," he asked, tapping the side of her head. "Of course I will help you; I never even meant for this to happen, so I'm not going to force you to suffer."

"Suffer?" she asked, looking at him oddly. He shrugged again in return.

"It's a pain to remember the past, but the past makes us who we are," he replied evenly. "I have just been subjected to more memories than many."

"Why do you remember? Why does it seem like you're the only one in this entire school that remembers?"

"Few people are allowed to remember Granger; can you imagine the chaos, the confusion it would cause to remember every detail of who you were in another lifetime? It's dangerous to remember, not only a burden but its dangerous too; people's minds would be far more corrupt because of the things they went through centuries ago. We have past lives earlier than the fourteenth century I'm sure, we just don't remember them. I remember my pasts as a punishment Granger, not a gift. This burden is no gift."

She wrinkled her nose. She thought that given the right explanations, this could be a gift, a beautiful insight to the world that a book could never provide. Yet he treated it like a disease. Granted, so did she, but what did she know? Next to nothing really, but listening to him talk was nearly fascinating. She had not considered any of the things he was saying until this very moment. "Why were- are- you being punished?"

He laughed, but it came out more as a pained choke. "Why do you think Granger? What happened in the first life we shared together?"

Well, that answer was simple; she knew she had been killed, but how was that his fault? She remembered that Henry Krum had been at fault for this, not Lowell Malfoy. Why would he be blamed? She gave him an odd look, and he took this as a sign to continue on.

"It was my plan to leave everything behind, for us to leave together and find a different life." Saying it out loud, he found that it brought a lot more emotion into his thoughts. He had never been given an opportunity to shed any of the weight off his shoulders, and this was suddenly a huge relief. "I told you everything would be alright, that it would make our lives better, and that Krum would not find you. But I was wrong, and in the end it led to your death." He stopped there, unwilling to tell her the rest of the story; there was so much more to be said.

_And I don't love like they do_

"But why would you be punished for that? You did nothing wrong; it seems to have just happened." This wasn't really what she wanted to focus on, she was more curious about the process, but whatever happened after her death was a mystery and she was curious.

He scoffed and looked away, turning his head, "If you only knew."

"I would know if you just told me," she huffed, crossing her arms at the stubborn blond. She knew he would be hard headed.

"Not now Granger," he said, and she could really hear the emotion in his words now, "Ask something else, but I won't be discussing this; ask something different."

She held her tongue. Fine, let him keep his little secrets for now, but considering it had to do with her, she would find out what he was hiding. But for now, she wasn't going to worry about that. Brushing her hair back a bit, she met his eyes again. "The timelines of our lives, they are scattered. Shouldn't I die and become… my daughter?"

He chuckled, turning back to stare at her. "It's a confusing concept Granger. You wouldn't come back to be your own daughter, the reincarnation process takes time. Those who suffer a traumatic death tend to be quicker about joining the living again. However, it takes about sixty years for the soul to reconstruct itself back into something that can be reborn into a body. It's a complicated process, seeing as you have to lose all of your memories in order to be able to regenerate into a person. I was forced to keep mine, but for my second life I came back too quickly. It made me feel sickly as time drew on. From there I tended to take longer, although I have no real recollection of this. You really can't remember anything."

She frowned. "You say you were forced to keep your memories, that it's a punishment, but who decided this? Are you telling me there are such things as gods?"

He smirked and looked at her. "That's revealing a bit too much there Granger. When you die, I will let you find out for yourself."

"I have already died in my past; I have already found out, so you cannot be giving away any surprises… just reminding me of things I have forgotten."

He laughed this time. "Granger, the only reason I know so much is because I have been remembering for centuries. You just started digging up old memories again, and those sorts of things have to come from personal experience. You never had any reason to face the afterlife with a clear mind, so you haven't."

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Don't worry about it then," he replied looking at her, "Ask other questions that I can answer."

"You certainly side step the few that I have quite well."

"You simply ask the questions I can't answer." He raised an eyebrow, still watching her. "Any more questions?"

"Why did you kiss me," she tried, wondering if he had any intent at all to fill her in anymore, or if this was another strange Malfoy trick that she had yet to figure out.

He grit his teeth. "I planned to prove a point, but it seems to have proven the wrong point. I never intended for you to jump into some memory relapse. I have kissed you before, in other lives, and nothing like this has ever happened." He threw his hands up. "I honestly don't understand some of the things happening right now Granger; it's never been like this before."

She sighed, before she stood and started pacing. "Well, it happened for one reason or another," she said, rubbing her hands together. "This 'immortal punishment' deal couldn't have gone on forever, so it's not really immortal. But I don't understand, what does this mean now? Am I supposed to love you now or something?" She turned to stare at him, wondering what he had to say; if her past told her anything, he had once really, truly loved her, and she him.

The blond shifted uncomfortably on her couch. "That is for you to decide Granger; you hardly know me in this life. You have to decide for yourself if you love me at all."

_But I don't hate like they do_

She tilted her head, knowing their topic had moved to an entirely new level of seriousness. "Well, do you love me?"

He pursed his lips at her question. He knew that question was coming as soon as she began her lecture. Standing, he moved so he was directly in front of her. "When you can answer me, I'll answer you."

Hermione stared up at him, irritated with his answer but unable to say anything. His response wasn't surprising, but the depth of emotion in his words was; she couldn't help but feel a bit swallowed by his sudden dark eyes. Her own dropped, and that was when she found something else to talk about to get away from this subject.

"What is the book?"

He smirked at the top of her head this time, pleased that she had asked a question he could rightly answer. "It's an account of my past lives with you, and some things that happened; it was my documentary on how to keep going back getting you to remember."

She glanced at him before sitting back on the couch and opening the book. "Me remembering really means a lot to you?"

"More than you understand Ganger."

She nodded absentmindedly, before returning to the pages. What had he written in here?

**Part 2: Suffer like I Do, 1489 (Life One)**

**Lowell Belmont Malfoy (19) and Penelope Elliana (19)**

He struggled to his knees. He could not sit there anymore beside her, not with the thoughts stirring through his mind. He had to get away, he had to let someone know where to find the body. He couldn't just leave her lying there on the ground.

Carefully, he stood, looking anywhere but her still form. He had long ago cried himself dry, and now he had to find someone to help him with this mess. The driver, why had he not kept the driver longer to assist? Throwing that thought away before he let that get to him as well, he turned and began to stumble away from the scene. What was he going to do?

_Why are thou still standing? That spell was for thee, not her. _He held back more tears as the thought entered his mind. _It is all thy fault that she's gone, so why does thou remain?_ He scrubbed at his eyes. _Thou should be dead. _

Dead: a work that should've scared him, but had no effect on him at all. Staring at the lifeless body before him, he could only categorize dead as an element of life. He was no fool; he knew death forever loomed in the distance, growing closer with each breath, for he had witnessed it on more than one occasion unfortunately, although it had never before made his heart ache like it did now. There was pain, guilt, and anger.

Oh, so much anger. He was angry at himself, but also at the bastard for doing this. And all the prick had to say was _"Dost not tell them I did it." _Pathetic; he barred this woman off from so many friends while they were together, and then he kills her, and does not have even the heart to care enough to stay. Perhaps that was better though, since Draco felt sure that he would've had to kill the man. Just like he felt the need to kill him now.

Kill; there was a word that made him feel many things, and among them was the thought of revenge. He should kill him, should make him pay, but he wondered if he had it in him at all to kill. He had seen people die, knew how it felt, and did not know if he wished that on Henry's family; it was Henry himself that deserved to suffer, not his family.

_Am I ever on your mind?_

His slow walk was stopped as he turned to hit the nearest tree. This was madness, wandering around in the dark to search for a hope that wasn't there. He was finding nothing within the dark trees, no answers and no paths, just a lot of questions and thoughts. He did not need those though; he needed something to focus on so he knew where to go from there.

He really only wanted to go back and lay beside the still body and wait for the cold outside to lock onto him, and slowly suck the life from him. The air was cold, and he could only assume that a cold front was coming. Perhaps if he would bother, he could find out through his magic, but that thought eluded him and he continued to walk.

It was a short time later when he found himself back at the dreaded spot; his purposeless wanderings had led him back to the one place he wasn't sure he should remain, and looking on at her still form he had to force down a hurt cry; this was all so unfair.

Tree… but of course! He had been wandering around so many, looking for something to tell him how to continue on after he allowed this tragedy to happen, when all along the answer stood before him. All those thoughts about killing Krum were just diversions from the real, daunting task before him. Unhappily, he looked up at the thick tree-limb. How cliché would it be to kill himself at her side? It wasn't like anyone would know the true story anyways, what with Henry being the bloody coward he was. The man would never admit to having killed his bride-to-be.

He walked back to the carriage, searching. When he did not locate what he wanted, he pulled his wand out in frustration, and caused a nearby basket to break apart before he snatched up a garment and reconfigured it into a much stronger material; rope.

It took a few short minutes to construct what he wanted. The noose would pull up when he let his feet fall out from under him, and he had made sure that the supporting branches were strong and secured well with rope. How interesting that it was so easy for him to take his life when it was so hard for her to avoid death.

He glanced down at her. Despite knowing that he could join her soon, he couldn't help the growing heartbreak and pain he still felt.

_Cold, but I'm still here_

He stepped up to his death. The emptiness he felt inside as he faced the end of his life was disheartening, and he was glad he could be rid of the empty feeling in a moment when he broke his neck. Fuck Krum, he would pay his dues someday, by someone's hand. Now he only wanted the throbbing pain of loneliness to stop.

He stood on the rock, looking out at the barren black area, and felt no remorse as he slipped his neck through the noose. Let the world wonder what happened to them. With that thought in mind, he stepped off the rock.

In the morning, traveling merchants would find the dead bodies, bringing tales of horror back to the village, all surrounded by a sickening love tale that everyone believed, except one man.

Henry Krum could never stand to listen to the story.

_Blind_

**Part 3: You See Me, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

The book lay closed on her table. They had spoken a bit about nothing important, and he could already see the stress lines forming on her pretty skin. She had every right to be appalled by what she was learning, he just wished she looked more awe-inspired and less horror-stricken.

"I would never have expected you to kill yourself- over _anything _Malfoy," she said, staring away from him. He hadn't meant to tell her about that, but when she read his notes about the ways they had died over the years, he had been forced to tell her something after ignoring all of her questions, even if it wasn't a pleasant story.

He only shrugged. "I didn't have much of a life Granger; I was rich and sought after and I had a loving family, but it never made me feel alive. Back then you did, and I treasured that more than anything in the world. When we died, our siblings carried on our family lines."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I made you feel alive?"

"And loved. It may come as a surprise Granger but I did love you once. Centuries have come and gone and although I do still feel a strong connection towards you, I'm not about to tell you whether or not I am in love with you."

She frowned. "Why not?" Looking at him, she brushed her hair back and the action made him swallow hard. He loved when she did things like that; the sweet simple things that made him pay her even more attention. "Wouldn't it be better for me to understand how you really feel?"

The blond nearly snorted. "Hardly; you will understand everything in time, but I cannot answer everything for you. You have to dig deep and find some answers yourself."

The frown deepened, and Hermione looked away. Dig deep? Hadn't she already dug down pretty far to even start considering this foolishness? Did he mean to find the answers around her, or to figure out how she left about him?

"I don't understand."

"Nor do I Granger; it's a complicated process, one that I myself have never really been able to grasp onto. I understand what I have to, what I need to in order to keep my sanity through all of these years, but that is all. There is no guidebook to these kinds of things; you have to write your own and just go with it, you know? Otherwise you'll never understand it- at least to some degree."

She didn't like his answers. He seemed to know so very much about this entire topic, yet here he was denying that he understood much at all. She supposed that it made sense, considering how very many things there were out there that no one understood, but she still wished he could tell her more.

"Why do you get so antsy in potions now? It's as though you can't stand that sight of your own godfather these days."

He flinched. "No reason."

Hermione rolled her eyes, not buying this excuse for a moment. "Don't give me that Malfoy; something is wrong and I want to know what. I'm not completely idiotic, I know I once associated with another Snape decades ago, but if so few people remember the past then he cannot be a problem. Alabaster Snape, right? He was in our second lifetime; I remember that much. He was a disturbed man, and although our professor is a bit creepy I don't think he is really a bad man; look where he stood in the war! He nearly gave his life up, always knowing that it was a huge possibility that he would be killed at any moment, because nowhere was safe. You can't tell me that you think badly about that man."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You trust too much in someone you share a bad history with; I don't know what happened behind closed doors between you two when I wasn't around, but I doubt that I want to. The bottom line is Granger that when I look at Severus I see Alabaster, just like when I look at Viktor Krum I see Henry. Remember what I said about being able to learn to control what you see? It's nice, but sometimes you need to be reminded of how double sided people can be. You never really know a person, right?"

The brunette nodded slowly. She was just beginning to learn and perhaps accept what was happening, whereas he had been forced to believe from the moment he was 'punished'. She couldn't quite wrap her head around things yet, couldn't see all angles of the picture. He was hell bent on reliving the past and who these people had been at their worst, but they did not remember who they once were, so were they really bad? She saw Ron as Rupert, and Harry as Alexander- her past _husband _– and although that was a bit uncomfortable it didn't make her think of them differently per say, just circumstances in general. It really was a peculiar world out there.

"I guess you don't."

_Cause I'm so blind_

"So what are you thinking Granger? Are you ready to declare me crazy again and storm away?"

Was she? Listening to him now, with all of these different things arising, she had a hard time calling him a lunatic, but really, could she believe him? It was so much to take in; to process and to believe that she wasn't fully sure she could handle all of it.

"Not exactly," she said, shifting a bit when she felt him stiffen. Had he been expecting to be shot down in the first place? "I mean, I don't really understand yet, and I'm having a hard time processing everything at the moment, but I don't think you're… crazy."

"Really," he breathed, and she could hear the surprise in his voice.

"Yes really. There is something here between us, real memories that I can't deny. I might be the crazy one here for all I know anymore, but at least you're not alone. I'm not going to tell you that I understand; just that… maybe I don't mind understanding things a bit more."

Had she been watching him instead of the floor she would've seen the smile spread across his face. "You're willing to listen?"

"If you can clear some things up, yes; then maybe I can tell you how I feel about you."

He didn't want to hold onto her words, hope that they were true just in case she took them back later, but he couldn't help it. He was closer than ever. Collecting himself, he forced the joy down. He needed to be collected after all. Reaching forwards, he picked up his book. "That's great Granger; we can make this a routine if you would like, so maybe you can understand things better. Say, same time tomorrow?"

Her head shot up. He must be really focused on getting her to believe if he was going to agree to this, and offer his assistance so easily. "Erm… yes, that sounds fine." She gave him a soft smile of gratitude, and she would never understand how much the small gesture meant to him.

"Then I will see you after classes up here."

Hermione nodded. "It sounds like a plan."

"Good," he said nodding, before he turned on his heel. He could feel the joy already bubbling in his chest, and wanted to get out before he lost control. With his back to her, he could openly smile without making her wonder. "See you Granger."

"Yes, goodbye Malfoy."


	17. Draco Helps

**A/n: **I think you guys will like this chapter, at least a little bit. And for anyone who likes my tragedy or angst stories, check out my published one-shot "Forget Me Naught", which is up now! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter too! :D Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1:Trust Me, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

"More studying," Ron complained, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. The trio were sitting in the Great Hall for dinner, and Hermione had just decided that now would be a marvelous time to take her leave. She knew once they got into the Gryffindor common room Ron and Harry would have even more people on their side begging her to stay, and it would be far harder to shove away a crowd. Still, Ron's pouty reaction was not unexpected.

"Yes," she replied simply, finishing off her drink. Sliding her eyes away from the irritated blond, she noted that Harry was looking at her strangely too. Great, now she had no one on her side. "Snape has been quite hard on me recently-"

"Actually I think that Snape has been nicer to you than usual," the ginger interrupted, spitting food in her direction as he spoke. She could only roll her eyes at his terrible manners. "Maybe it's because you are now required to be partners with his favorite student- which is by far one of the worst rules they have ever come up with. Really, why would you ever want to have to spend more time with that slimy ferret?"

_Because he holds all the answers to my questions? _She shrugged instead of saying that. "Who knows Ron; the rule was probably established long before they ever figured out who the Head students would be. The rule is tolerable, you don't have to always ask about it. Malfoy hasn't been horrid to me."

"That's only because he is worried about his place as Head boy," Ron muttered.

She frowned at his insistence that Malfoy was pure evil- solely there to cause her issues. "He isn't that bad Ronald; lay off a bit."

_Say we're never far from comfortable this time_

Both boys were gawking at her due to that comment. "Are you feeling alright Hermione?" Harry asked, leaning forwards to feel if she had a temperature but she swatted his hand away. He held them up as a sign of peace instead. "It's just odd to hear you defending Malfoy, that is all."

She turned up her nose, tired of listening to them. Standing, she grabbed her things. "It may come as a surprise to both of you, but people can change." And with that she stood and stormed away, leaving two very confused boys in her wake.

_Cold_

* * *

Hermione had stopped by the library on her way up to her rooms to drop off a few books before she went up to her rooms. This put her a few minutes behind the scheduled time, but considering that Malfoy had left the Great Hall after her she assumed that he would be arriving roughly the same time she did.

Rounding a corner, she crashed into Professor Snape. She hadn't been walking fast, but he appeared to be in a hurry, and the force of their collision sent her sprawling on the ground, items flying everywhere.

"Miss Granger," he said when he realized who it was. The girl was just beginning to get up, but she was able to tell that his voice was quite tight and strained. She didn't look up at him as she rolled her eyes and collected her things, nor did he extend his hand to aid her as she stood.

She gave him a short nod, trying to be polite so she could avoid any confrontation with her professor. She recalled Draco's hatred for the man before her, as well as whom he had once been in her past life. It was probably for the best that she did not remain there too long. The solitude between them was evident to her and it made her skin crawl, images of Alabaster flashing across her vision. That would simply never do.

Without replying, she walked past him, but his voice stopped her only a few steps away. "Miss Granger," the man drawled, and her shoulders stiffened at the sound of his voice. Great, what could he possibly want?

She shoved a sigh down her throat, and turned around to face the potions master, another image of Alabaster flashing across her vision. This was going to be a long talk. "Yes?"

"Why aren't you with those friends of yours," he asked, an eyebrow shooting up. She frowned, wondering how that was any of his business.

"I needed some time to myself," she said, shrugging as though this conversation really wasn't uncomfortable at all, "I was just going to my rooms to study." _Or to speak with Malfoy, whichever answer gets you to leave me alone._

"I see," the man replies, nodding, "Well do be careful on your walk up Miss Granger; the war may be gone, but there are still people lurking in these halls who may still wish to do you harm." His eyes ran over her once, and it was beneath that uncomfortable stare that she decided it was time to go.

"I have always been able to take care of myself," she replied curtly, not bothering to try and keep her tone pleasant anymore; he was out of line. Turning on her heel, she left him standing there the same way she had left her friends, with her nose turned up and irritation coursing through her body.

His gaze followed her until she was around the corner.

_Now we're so cold_

* * *

"You have no reason to be here," he snapped, and the blond just rolled his eyes.

"I've already told you Weasel; I have head duties to attend to with Granger, so if you would kindly stop spitting in my face."

"I will not!"

That was the scene Hermione found herself facing as she rounded the corner to get to her common room. There stood Malfoy and Ron amidst yet another argument. This was obviously dealt with the blond standing outside her door, just like Ron was; happy day- another issue to deal with before she could sit down and really deal with what she wanted to get to.

Draco saw her first, inclining an eyebrow to her as he wiped the non-existent liquid from his face. "Learn to speak clearly Weasel, not to spit on the person you are speaking with. It's a wonder you have had a girlfriend at all."

"I only do this for you Malfoy," he replied in a fake-sweet tone, completely oblivious to Hermione's arrival.

"Couldn't you two have found a better place to argue," she asked, coming up beside them. Ron was startled by her sudden appearance, but Draco merely smirked like usual. The Gryffindor Princess did look quite irritated by the situation, but he could not deny that she looked cute when irritated.

"Hermione, what is he doing here," Ron asked, inclining his head in the Slytherin's direction. The blond could only roll his eyes in response, and didn't bother saying anything on his own behalf.

She recalled what he had said a moment before. "Like he said Ronald, we have head duties to discuss, and although you might want me to come to the Gryffindor common room like earlier I am still inclined to do other things- it comes with my title."

Ron reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling them away from the blond a bit. "Can't you get out of doing this for just tonight? Aside from the Hogsmeade trip, we haven't really gotten to see you outside of class in ages. You're always… busy."

She sighed, knowing he was right. "I know Ron, but like I said, I have duties I have to follow through with." Quickly, the ginger's face fell, and she had to tell herself to keep going. She felt horrible for lying to him, but figuring everything out was pretty important right now. "I promise, during our free class tomorrow I will be around; I'll come up to Gryffindor common room with all of you."

The boy didn't look convinced. The sullen expression still remained on his face, and she knew he was disappointed that she wasn't going to ditch Malfoy in order to be with them. "If you say so. But why can't we come up here? You hardly ever offer."

It was true; since receiving her private dorm, she had rarely brought her friends up. There was no real reason for this; she just always felt better going to the Gryffindor common room instead. The people that were there were her friends as well, friends that she did not get to see much of. Slowly, she nodded. "You can bring Harry and Ginny up here if you like."

He nodded, but the look remained. "Alright, I'll bring them up here with me tomorrow around noon, during the free period. I'm not sure if Ginny can come or not, however."

That was what she had figured. "Bring her if she can come." He nodded, put off, and left without a goodbye. She sighed as he walked out of sight.

"Problems with your friends," the blond called, and she whipped her head back around to face him. Her eyes narrowed.

"You think," she snapped, walking back to her door. She was quick to mutter the password so they could enter together, the blond hot on her heels. He glanced back to make sure that the ginger was no longer there; he wasn't.

_And you're not mine_

She was quick to walk to her room, throwing everything down on her bed. When she turned back she had not expected the blond to follow her, and squeaked in surprise. It was a pathetic sound; one that made her blush and he smile. She glared at him for it. _Prick. _

"How long were you talking to Ron?" she asked, putting a step or two between them. Being pressed against the blond's masculine body was never something she intended to have happen.

He shrugged. "Not long; he came up the stairs just a few minutes after I did and thought I was creeping around your dorm." He rolled his eyes. "It didn't take long to begin yelling after that. And why were you late anyway? I knocked but no one answered. I was actually beginning to wonder if something was wrong."

She expected as much. "Nothing was wrong; I dropped some books off at the library and ran into Snape on the way up here, nothing big."

Draco's expression froze at her comment. "Snape? You ran into Snape?"

"Yes," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Nothing happened, he just warned me to be careful."

"Why," he asked, and she could see him tensing. It was odd to see Draco Malfoy getting worked up over her safety, and she was going to have to get used to it.

She shrugged, taking off her cloak to reveal the muggle clothing beneath; she figured he would make too much out of Snape's comment. "He said to be careful, because some people might want to still kill me even though the war is over."

He went rod straight. "_What_? Snape said this?"

"Yes, and before we start making false connections you yourself told me that few people remember their pasts! He doesn't mean anything personal by it."

The blond didn't look convinced. "He has also been acting strange lately."

"Malfoy, _I'm_ the one that is supposed to be jumping to conclusions; I'm the one that doesn't understand anything. Aren't you supposed to be the collected one then? Calm down and stop assuming that he is out to hurt me just because one past life had bad intentions." She paused, processing what she had just said before she sat down heavily on her bed. "Merlin, listen to me! I sound like a bloody loon over here, going on about 'lives' like I actually understand what you have been telling me." She threw her hands up. "See what happens when you start panicking over these matters? I do too, so you have to remain in control of your bloody thoughts!"

He waited for her to finish her rant. She had a logical point that he should be able to deal with these thoughts better than she could, but ever since the war ended he had been getting a strange vibe from his godfather. It was like something had severely changed, but he didn't know exactly how to explain it. Snape seemed to be paying Granger more attention than ever before and now he had really begun to see it. From his constant stares in the classroom to having to tell the girl to put a jumper on and hide herself, Draco had seen the change. But to what extent did these changes reach? Were the same thoughts that had once been embedded in the depths of Alabaster's mind now implanted into Severus's as well? But, how would that be possible? The man had not been killed.

Now how would he explain this to her? Slowly, he took a breath. "Granger, I am collected. I am only trying to make sure that I can see everything clearly. Right now I want to know what the meaning of that statement was."

She waved her hand at him, rubbing her temples. "Never mind the statement, it's really not important." It seemed that she too had used the brief pause in their conversation to collect her scattered emotions. "We aren't here to talk about this; we are here so that you can explain more to me about everything. There is still so much that I don't understand."

He stood beside her, watching her closely. "Don't stress so much Granger; it does little for you. I will worry about Snape, alright?"

The girl peered up at him. "I wasn't worried to begin with."

"Perhaps," he relented, rolling his eyes, "But you did invite me back up here to talk, so that's what we will do. Do you prefer to speak in here, or perhaps you prefer the living room?"

As though finally realizing where they were sitting, she blushed. Standing and smoothing down her shirt, she nodded to him. "The living room, certainly. There is no reason to make things anymore awkward."

Although he agreed, he couldn't quite fight down his disappointment. He liked talking to her in that room, not because of what usually happened between a man and woman in this sort of domain behind closed doors, but because this room held more of her character. Many personal items littered the space that could tell you far more about her than the stereotype "bookworm", but he did not currently have the time to observe anything. Instead, he had to leave, because having him in her room made her uncomfortable, and that was not something he wanted.

He would wait as long as it took for her to accept him, the only problem was that he had begun to worry that she never would, at least not in the way he wanted her to. It would be heartbreaking to know she knew everything, knew their pasts and how they had become who they were today, and still did not want him. He was not entirely sure he could live through that.

**Part 2: Sick, 1748 (Life Four)**

**Damian P`ere Malfoy (15) and Rivkah Tabitha (18)**

He was ashamed, that was all he could say. He was ashamed of how he kept treating his wife. After using her in bed only days before, he had been neglectful when she became sick the previous few days. The only people around who assisted her at all were the maids, and that was awful. He was mistreating her when she really needed him, yet he could not force himself to go to her.

That was how he ended up standing in the wind that chilly November, hair a mess around his head. At least out here the land remained peaceful for the moment, and that was something he treasured. He knew war had just ended in the muggle world, a war that Britain fought in, but it did not cross magical boundaries, and he found himself still able to wander the land without fear; those muggle weapons of war were truly terrifying, although he was unsure whether or not they could stand against a yielded wand. Standing there in the outdoors, wind sweeping his hair around, he found a tranquil peace. He knew it would only last a few moments, for he still had many things to attend to before night took over the land, but for this brief pause of time he was going to savor it.

He had no idea yet the burden the next year would bring upon him. Memories were not yet an issue, and yet he felt that he couldn't take life. He had stopped loving his wife days after their marriage, but could not place why.

No, that was a lie in itself. He loved her, but not the way he should- not the way a husband should love his wife; this was the way one loved a friend, and perhaps that was what sent him rushing away from her side this morning to the outdoors. He had needed peace of mind for a moment, and he still did not understand what it was like to have a truly troubled mind. However would he survive when life really did start meaning something to him, when he could understand what it was like to have loved and lost?

"Lord Malfoy," someone called, drawing his attention. It was not the voice of his wife, nor the servants of his Manor. Glancing up, he caught sight of a familiar woman trotting towards him, her towering dress weighing her down. This was a woman he had recently spoken with inside a local restaurant.

"Lady Rivkah," he replied when the woman was close. He dared not speak her last name, for he knew there was a growing rift in her family, and it was undecided among society whether or not to speak her given father's name, or her mother's maiden name, the woman who had been attempting to escape a madman. From the rumors Damian heard from his sister- Willow- the man had tried to kill his wife and six children. The eldest son, Gabriel who was only twenty three, had stopped him indefinitely. Whatever happened from there was being kept quiet within the walls of the home. He took the girl's hand when she was finally at his side, kissing it politely. This was the girl that had plagued his thoughts since their short encounter. "How are thou?"

She hesitated in her answer for only a single moment. "There have been but better times," she replied, knowing that the news of the events within her home had spread quickly around town. There was no use denying the truth, although her brothers Gabriel and Achille attempted to do just that. She thought it would only cause more of a stir. "Thou are well? What are thou doing out here in the wind, when thee could be inside? Thou have a wife, yes?"

His jaw clenched at the mention of Gemma, who was currently inside sick while he spoke with this girl like an enlightened schoolboy. Then again, he was still the age of a schoolboy. "Yes, she is feeling under the weather, and I chose to give her space for a moment." That was a lie, but it was far better than the truth.

Rivkah smiled a dazzling smile that shone brightly in the sunlight that day. Behind her, he could see two male figures that he quickly identified; her fiancé, Dennis, and brother Achille had been accompanying her someplace. He wondered how she slipped away from her future husband like that, when so many wizards kept a tight hold on their woman once they had them. He noted how stiff their postures seemed, and decided it was probably best if he did not linger. This gathering did not seem appreciated. "Perhaps I shall get back to her though, for I should not leave her alone long."

The girl, obviously disappointed that their conversation was going to end so quickly, nodded. She had to understand, for soon enough she would have a husband of her own like this man, who would also be expected to return quickly when he went out for a breath. "Very well; I shall send thy mother an owl, I have forgotten since we spoke last. Perhaps we shall meet again, over tea this time."

He liked that idea, he really did, he was just unsure if it would be a wise decision to attend or not. "Perhaps we shall." Nodding his head to her this time instead of kissing her hand since he now knew who had come along with her today, he was quick to make his leave. It was rude, and she did appear a bit put off, but he could not dally anymore.

Something about her made his heart want to jump from his chest; for reasons he could not fathom, he was quite attracted to this strange girl.

**Part 3: Don't Wander in the Dark, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

Hermione did not understand a whole lot more when they finished speaking that night than she did when they began speaking. Reincarnation apparently meant being one's own grand-something, which just made her head hurt. She told him to stop speaking after only a few minutes, for fear that her headache would never go away otherwise.

They now sat in silence on her couch again, and Hermione could feel the exhaustion slowly eating at her body. She still had quite a bit of homework to do, and knew it would not be finished until this conversation was over. Still though, despite the headache and confusion, she wanted more. She just wanted to understand the things around her, and the things she had once lived through.

When he spoke again, it was not what she had been expecting to hear. "Sleep Granger; you're practically out as it is."

Her head whipped around to stare at him. "I am fine, thank you, and I have plenty of things to finish first, before I even think about sleeping."

"Like?" the blond asked, tilting his head. She frowned, wondering why he had to suddenly be so very curious about her life.

"Homework for example," she said, glancing back at her room. That heavy bag still sat in there.

"Do you have a lot?" he asked, although he already knew the answer. He had done his earlier that day during lunch and part of his free period, having known that this conversation could take quite a bit of time. He didn't expect it to go the way it had, but his prediction seemed correct.

"You know how much I have; we had nearly all our classes together today."

Draco nodded. "Perhaps you should go do some of it."

She raised an eyebrow, looking at him oddly. "If you have forgotten Malfoy, we are still in the middle of a conversation, and it's quite rude to disappear during a conversation simply to do some work."

He shrugged indifferently, hardly caring at all. He wanted to spend as much time with her as he could. "It hardly makes a difference to me Granger. Go work, think up some more ridiculous double-sided questions for me to answer, and I will take up the responsibility of raiding your fridge for some food."

That entire idea seemed ridiculous to Hermione as she listened, but it was tempting. Get some work done, figure out more questions, and have a few minutes away from Malfoy's form, which had been doing odd things to her for a while now. Yes, this idea sounded quite good, and for once she decided to simply not argue. "I suppose that could work," she replied, getting up. She smiled at him as she walked towards her room, "There's plenty of food in the fridge, although none of it is made, so I do hope you know how to prepare food yourself Malfoy," she joked, before entering her room entirely.

He rolled his eyes. Did she think he was completely incapable? He had five lifetimes of experience to look back on; he could draw answers from something. He knew how to make a sandwich and some soup at the very least. Hopefully she had one of those.

_I guess we will find out. _Standing, he wandered to the small kitchen, a goal now in the back of his head on what kind of sandwich he wanted.

_Say we're never far from obvious this time_

_Cold_

* * *

"Granger," he called from the living room, irritated. Did it really have to take her forty minutes? He sighed, having finished his sandwich over thirty minutes ago. "Granger," he continued, standing up, "I hope your questions are quite detailed this time if it has taken you this long to come up with them." He walked into her room, the door still being open so that they could talk, although that had never really happened, and now he saw why. The girl was passed out at her desk, parchment beneath her face; quill in hand, a spilt bottle of ink at her side. He clicked his tongue, unable to call the image anything but _cute_, and that word coming from Draco Malfoy was a wonder in itself.

He cleaned the ink up quickly, before plucking the quill from her hand. He was tempted to wake her and show her just what she had done, but thought better of it. She looked so content, sitting there asleep, that he didn't quite have the heart. Instead, he shoved the chair back a bit and picked her slim form up, moving her over just a bit to rest contently in her bed, moving the covers to engulf her form. There, that was better.

The blond smiled lightly. He loved watching her sleep- she just looked so peaceful. A thought crossed his mind, and deciding to throw caution to the wind like he had done once before, he bent forwards and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

"Sleep well Granger," he breathed, before pulling back. He left her room quickly, afraid that she would wake. When the door clicked softly shut behind him, he studied her common room. It appeared that the Head Girl was having a hard time keeping clean, and her room was proof of it. Books lay all over the place.

_Lending a hand is never bad. _The thought was random, and had no value at all to the situation, but he convinced himself that this was alright. He was just helping, right? Being a nice, very old boyfriend.

Well, boyfriend wasn't the correct term for what he had been to Penelope. That had not existed. He did not quite know what to call that relationship.

When everything was in place, he nodded contently. Now her common room was perfectly clean, but he was exhausted. It hadn't been a lot of work, but it was indeed late. Looking at the clock a dangerous thought crossed his mind.

_Wake up early; you can rest on her couch for a few hours._

Now he was really testing his limits, but the option was just too good. Sitting back down on the couch, he hoped that he woke early in the morning, else she would kill him. But hey, he liked sleeping close to her.

And this was as close as he was able to get.

* * *

A sharp hit to his head woke him in the morning. "Malfoy, hide," Hermione hissed, who was currently finishing putting on a shirt, the material sliding over the slim torso quickly.

He looked around groggily, confused for a moment. What was going on? Oh yes, he had decided to sleep on the Gryffindor's couch. But why was she running around like that?

He was about to ask what was wrong with her, when he got his answer. "Hermione, hurry up! We are going to be late to breakfast! And Ginny wants to come in, she wants to borrow something. Are you even listening?"


	18. Draco's Found

**A/n: **Drama, drama, drama! Get ready for it! I have a few new stories, so don't forget to check them and my facebook out! Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K Rowling.**

**Disclaimer: Plot is similar to the book Fallen by Lauren Kate, but I have never read this book (or books?) so I don't know if it will continue to be the same. This has nothing to do with angels and constantly dying, just to let you know. I don't think it will be too similar.**

* * *

**Part 1: Come out of the Closet, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

_He was about to ask what was wrong with her, when he got his answer. "Hermione, hurry up! We are going to be late to breakfast! And Ginny wants to come in, she wants to borrow something. Are you even listening?"_

Draco cringed. Of course, the one time he decides to sleep in her room her friends decide to come around? Brilliant! And there were at least two of them outside the door, but he was willing to bet there were more people outside than just the Weasley's. Potter was probably there too. _Bloody fucking hell. _

"Stop sitting there," she hissed, and he snapped his head up to glare at her. He barely had time to gain his footing before she was shoving his discarded cloak into his hands, ushering him into her room. Draco rolled his eyes the entire way. And when she began shoving him towards the closet, he spun around, his glare hardening.

"Don't even think about it," he said, crossing his arms tightly. The knocking on her door continued and she threw him a glare herself.

"Well, it's the closet or under the bed, take your pick."

"Can't I just hide in the bathroom- or use some sort of invisibility spell?"

"Hermione," the voice from outside her door called, and they could both tell that it was definitely Ron. "Are you awake?"

"_No_," she said, shaking her head quickly. "Harry has spent a lot of time being invisible, and Snape once spent a brief amount of time teaching him how to be able to pick out someone hiding under one of those spells quickly. He would notice you."

Draco recalled an event a short time ago, when he had also been in the same room as Potter and Granger, and Potter looked directly at him. _Shit, that Gryffindor could actually tell someone was there? At least he never figured out who. _"Then distract them so I can sneak out."

She shook her head, using her wand to open the door to the closet. "No." She gave him a shove, but it hardly made him move. Throwing her hands up, she looked at the ceiling. "Will you just hide Malfoy, _please_? The longer I wait the more suspicious they will be."

_You broke me from the very first night_

He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Fine, but this had better be the fastest fucking conversation ever, or trust me; I will attempt to sneak out." Stepping backwards into the closet, he muttered several curses as she shut him in. Taking a deep breath after the door closed, she hurried to answer her dorm door.

"There you are," Ginny said, smiling when the brunette appeared. "I was wondering if you had just become immune to Ron's voice," she joked, stepping past both the boys in the doorway to make her way in. Hermione had been right; Harry was with them, and the raven-haired boy even smiled as he passed her. "I was actually wondering if I could borrow a shirt," Ginny continued, looking at Hermione. The brunette noted the offending spot on her blouse. "This idiot spilled his morning beverage on me," she said, nudging Ron, who only rolled his eyes.

_Oh great, a shirt. But I just locked Malfoy away in my closet! _"Sure," she replied smiling. If she said no for the first time, it would seem suspicious. Ginny nodded thankfully, shooting Ron an irritated look as she followed Hermione into her bedroom, leaving the boys to wait in the living room surrounded by numerous books.

"Do you have anything in lavender," the redhead asked, glancing at Hermione. She knew it was rather unlikely considering what the girl normally wore, and their styles were so different that Ginny knew she would only last so long in one of Hermione's shirts. The brunette shook her head once and walked towards the closet, Ginny following in tow.

Draco picked up on the noise outside quickly, cursing beneath his breath. _Lavender? She might look pretty in it but I've never seen Granger break away from her nude tones and pale pinks. And why does she keep her shirts in the fucking closet, instead of the cabinet across the room? Merlin's balls Granger!_

"Why don't you let me look for one," Ginny asked, noting that Hermione seemed insistent on looking all by herself. Instead, the brunette turned and gave her a sheepish shrug.

"Oh, it's just a mess in there," the brunette replied, not opening the closet door. _Malfoy better get the hint and hide before I have to open this door. _

The redhead blinked, looking at her oddly. "A mess? Hermione, I've never seen anything you own become a mess! Your old books are even clean." The girl stopped suddenly, a mischievous grin taking over her face. "Or maybe you just have a secret?"

"No," Hermione replied quickly, and the ginger raised an eyebrow at the rushed answer.

"Really," she continued, rolling her eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you have someone hiding in there!" Her expression broke into a wide grin. "But I know you Hermione; you would never do something like that."

_Well, not exactly like that anyway. _She braced herself as Ginny opened the door, and was relieved to find that the closet was barren. _Good; Malfoy hid. At least Harry isn't in here! _

"I suppose I can wear pink today," the girl sighed, surveying the colors in the wardrobe. None were really all that flashy, save the few bright pieces of red she wore to Quidditch games on occasion. And today Ginny had no reason to wear something so obvious. Grabbing a top out, she shut the door, Hermione trying to see past her the whole time to catch whether or not the blond would reappear early. He didn't.

Ginny changed quickly- with Hermione hoping the git kept his eyes to himself while she did so- and they rejoined their friends. "Ready," Ron sighed, looking at the two with irritation.

"You could've always gone on ahead of us," Hermione remarked, surveying her friends quickly. She needed an excuse to stay behind a moment and get Malfoy out of her rooms.

"Well," Harry said with a shrug, "We can go now." He reached over to grab Ginny's hand, and the trio began to make their way out.

"I need to finish gathering my things," she said lamely, drawing their attention. The girl's eyebrow shot up, having seen Hermione's bag fully packed like usual in her bedroom. "I was running late this morning, as you all realized."

Ron groaned. "We definitely should've gone ahead," he complained, his stomach rumbling for emphasis. All she could do was shake her head at him.

"Go on; I'll be down in just a few minutes."

Harry and Ron, who had not gone into the bedroom and seen Hermione's packed schoolbag, or her strange behavior- seemed fine with this idea and bid her goodbye. Ginny however seemed more reluctant.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have us wait?" she asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow as the brunette shook her head.

"No; I'll be alright walking down to the Great Hall by myself."

The girl still looked skeptical, but nodded slowly, "If you say so."

"Great," she replied, nodding to her three friends. "I won't be long." She waited until the trio was making their way out the door before she turned away, not bothering to wait for the click of the door. She hurried into her room, shutting it quickly so that no one would hear her, just in case someone turned back for a moment, although she doubted it.

She threw open the closet to find Malfoy standing there with a perturbed look on his face once again. "Took long enough Granger; I was about to walk out there."

"Well it's appreciated that you _didn't_," she snapped, turning away. "No one really uses this hallway; wait a few minutes and they should be far enough away that you can leave without being seen."

"Fantastic," he remarked, sitting down on her desk chair as she wandered around frantically. Her bag was packed, but it seemed that she cleaned every morning, and was rushing to do so. He sighed, wishing she would sit still so they could talk, instead of him just watching her rush around frantically.

"Why did you stay here last night," she asked as she came over to the desk to straighten some papers. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well after you disappeared to do some 'homework' which is really just a secret way of saying 'I'm-going-to-sleep', I moved you out of that horrible position you were in here at this bloody desk and then decided I had at least earned myself a few minutes rest before trekking back down to my own dorm." He shrugged. "I just ended up sleeping longer than I thought."

"You think?" she asked, shaking her head. The papers were in order, and she turned to grab her bag. "I think you're good. I'll see you in potions this morning?"

He nodded. "As always." They stood together, heading for the bedroom door, and opened it to find a sight neither had expected.

"I was right; you did have a boy hiding, although I never expected it to be this one." There stood Ginny, shaking her head as she spoke.

Draco frowned, looking at Hermione. "You didn't think to wait until they were completely gone before you came to get me?"

**Part 2: Rough Conversations, 1650 (Life Three)**

**Omar Julian Malfoy and Annalisa Coralie Williams**

She looked down at the child in her arms; the newborn baby boy. He was beautiful, lying comfortably there in the cradle she provided. The woman had yet to stop smiling down at him. His name was Rune; Rune Author Williams. He had her dark hair and –unfortunately- her husband's haunted eyes.

"He is sweet," said the woman at her side. She looked up to smile at Lucia Grayhale, who in several centuries would be the living Ginny Weasley. "Thou have but a beautiful child."

She smiled at the compliment. Lucia was always perfect to have around when she needed to feel better. "I thank thee." She needed this woman around, this kind friend, for she had just had the child and her husband was nowhere to be found. He was of course, off with business associates doing whatever it was that made her rich, despite her "tainted blood".

_I'd love you_

He had brought that topic up only days before. They had fought, and Gary admitted that she was lucky that he had wanted to marry her at all with her Half-blood blood floating around in her body, due to her ancestors. It had hurt her feelings.

But here was Lucia, blond hair and all, ready to brighten her day. The woman was good for that, and although a Pureblood herself, she had never before judged her for her Half-blood status. It was one of the things that made Annalisa really enjoy her. She hoped this would be a lifelong friend.

* * *

**(Present Day)**

"Well," the redhead asked, crossing her arms. She knew something was wrong with Hermione from the moment she followed her to get a shirt. The girl had never been good at lies, but Ginny hadn't thought it would be anything like this. This was Malfoy!

"Um," Hermione replied, struck silent for a moment. She had explained to Ron just last night that Malfoy could stay up here only to work on Head Duties, but now that was going to sound terribly wrong. If he had stayed up to preform 'Head Duties' they would not have been the kind that benefited the school, and she was sure the girl would see that immediately. So what would she tell her?

"Hermione, don't even try to lie to me. I can see what is going on here."

The brunette blanched. There was no way she could see the truth, considering the truth was so out of the ordinary that no one could ever guess it. "You can?" she asked slowly, feeling Malfoy stiffen beside her.

"Of course; you're sleeping around with him," she accused, pointing a painted finger at the blond. "That's why you are never around at night; you're up here playing around with him!"

"Ginny-"

"Weaselette, that's ridiculous-"

"Don't lie," she hissed, balling her hands up. "I see through the lies. It explains everything!" She turned her head a bit, focusing solely on the brunette instead of the invading Slytherin. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've found someone far better for you to spend your time with- like Ron or Viktor! Either of them would have been better choices!"

Hermione flinched lightly at Viktor, recalling once more the vividly cruel memories of Henry Krum, the past-life of Viktor. "Ginny, listen, you have it all wrong."

"Wrong? Then tell me Hermione, what am I missing?" She held her arms out wide. "This is what I see; if he had come by this morning you would've been thinking logically and you would've made up an excuse as to why he was here so early, or have told the truth. But you did neither; you hid him someplace in your room. I presume it was in the closet, considering how odd you were about me opening it."

"Well having you scream with Weasel and Pothead hanging around wouldn't have gone over well," Draco muttered, receiving a glare because of his comment.

"Cute Malfoy." Ginny crossed her arms, looking at Hermione once more. "Look, I'm not going to rush out of here spreading rumors like Lavender, but I need to know the truth Hermione. What is he doing here?"

She glanced at the blond, unsure what to say. The truth would sound like a bigger lie, and that would go over badly. But then again, substituting parts of the truth wasn't exactly lying.

"We were working on our Head Duties like I told Ron," she began, turning away from the blond again to face her friend, "And I told him I needed to do some homework because I was behind. He agreed to wait, and ate all the food in my fridge. I guess I fell asleep at some point, and he did the same because we were isolated for a bit and it was late." She shrugged feebly. "We woke up to Ron's knocking."

The ginger still looked skeptical. It was a bit unheard of for two former enemies to be relaxed enough in each other's presence to actually fall asleep, but there she was telling Ginny that was the truth. Apparently, she should've let Malfoy speak instead.

_'Til the day that I die_

"You sure," Ginny asked, glancing between the two. She couldn't decide if she could believe that story at all or not. It seemed so fake, yet Hermione seemed genuine in her explanation; she wasn't skittish or muttering, playing with her hair or looking around, she was focused and positive, and that was what had Ginny wavering. Could this really be the truth?

"Yes," Hermione said. She wasn't wavering on her answer.

The redhead sighed slowly. "Alright I will believe you." She crossed her arms though, glaring at the two. "Be more careful though with your _'studies'_ though, because if Harry or Ron find you in a similar situation I doubt they will be as understanding." Her eyes narrowed. "Although this was an accident, so it shouldn't happen again, right?"

Hermione felt a bit like she was speaking with her mother; Ginny was lecturing her at this point. "Yes, of course."

The girl nodded. "Good. We should get going though; we are already late to breakfast, and we will be late to our first classes if we don't hurry." She looked between the two. "I will just leave you two to carry on as you desire." She did however give Hermione an extra, almost knowing glance. "We can talk later."

_Cold_

The brunette nodded, thankful that Ginny's fiery temper was not showing itself today. The situation could've easily gotten out of hand had she not been able to explain that near truth. They said their goodbyes and the redhead left, afraid to glance behind her at the two, possibilities of what else may have gone on floating around in her head.

Once she was gone, Hermione glanced at Draco. "If she catches us again she won't think twice about acting on it. I might be acting civil with you but that doesn't mean my friends will be kind if they think something is going on."

He rolled his eyes, "It's not like I couldn't guess that myself Granger," he snapped, crossing his arms. "Now like the Weaselette said, we best be going; class starts in a minute."

She blanched. "But you haven't even changed yet!"

"Yes well, poor me." He brushed past her, walking towards the door. "I will stop by my room to freshen up before coming down to class. Do inform Snape that I intend on arriving." His hand came to rest on the door-handle, and the thought seemed to replay in his mind. "On second thought, he will just figure it out when I arrive."

"Are you sure?"

_You think I really want to give you a reason to be near him? _"Positive; I'll handle it myself. Do wear that sweater of yours while in class today." Before she could chirp a reply, he had flung the door open and hurried out, expecting her to have some sort of retort up her sleeve.

She frowned at the now empty space. Did he really think he could control what she wore in class? _Then again, Snape has been a bit odd this year, so I'm not sure if he is entirely wrong. I wonder why he seems so different… _She shook her head as the bell rang signaling the first class of the day. Great; she would be late now and draw attention. What would the students think when both Heads were tardy to class?

What would the teacher think?

* * *

**(1650)**

"Thou are happy," Gary said duly, noting the eccentric look on his wife's face. Their child seemed to bring her immense joy, something he did not understand. The man himself was not a lover of babies or anyone really beneath the age of eighteen, and although he needed to certainly have a heir for when they both were gone, he did not want to have to deal with this squirming, small little thing that they were expected to care for. _Thank Circe for maids._

"Yes, yes of course," Annalisa said, smiling genuinely at him. It was amazing to see her beam like that, but he would rather see it be because of him instead of the loud bundle.

"I am glad," he said, before nodding towards the maid in the corner. "Here, give Rune to Genevieve," he said, ushering the stout woman who was hired to care for the child over. The wife's expression immediately dropped, but he ignored it entirely as Genevieve took the baby away. Once the door clicked shut behind her, he eased into bed. "Now we are but alone."

_I loved you from the very first night_

His wife however looked irritated. "Why dost thou send thy son away? Dost thou not wish to spend time with him?"

Gary frowned, having hoped that the child would be forgotten once he was out of sight. Obviously the plan did not work out to his advantage. He reached to rub her cheek, but she slapped his hand away. Sighing, he threw himself onto the sheets. "I wanted only to spend time alone with thee. We have not for-"

"Eleven days," she finished, her voice chipped. "Thou should be more concerned with spending time with thy newborn son than thy wife alone!" She turned on her side. "I hope thou sleep is pleasant."

_You broke me_

The night was not turning out so well.

**Part 3: Remain with Me, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

She stared down at the parchment before her, scribbling the directions to their newest assignment down for use. Snape hadn't come to speak with her yet, but she knew it would come. He had sent her an icy glare the moment she entered class, and with Malfoy's words swimming around in her head, she assumed this conversation would not be pleasant.

The talk came sooner than she preferred. "Miss Granger," Snape drawled from his nearby desk, and she reluctantly turned towards him, having been about to disappear into the back to gather the ingredients like some of the other students. "Please come see me."

_'Til the day that I die_

She walked to the front of the room, stopping in front of his desk, noting that the blond had yet to show despite them being fifteen minutes into the class. "Yes Professor," she asked, attempting to keep her voice level. She really did feel a bit uncomfortable with him now.

"You were late today."

"Yes, I was."

Snape opened his mouth to respond, but something caught his eye and he looked over. Draco Malfoy was sauntering in, looking at the teacher with a hard expression. If only that boy knew the truth. A thought played through his mind, and the greasy haired man had to suppress a smirk. _That would certainly make things interesting. _

Draco for his part did not enjoy what he was seeing. Why was she up at the front speaking with the potions professor, and why did he have that glint in his eye? The blond quickly took a seat where he should, finding that the Gryffindor had copied down whatever was written on the board. Although he wanted to go and listen into their conversation, he decided to act like nothing seemed odd to him, and instead pulled out a quill and duplicated what she had already written. A few minutes later, she sat back down beside him, looking more than a bit off.

"Something wrong," he asked, setting his quill down. From the corner of his eye he could see that Snape was grading papers, but he suspected that was not the only thing he was doing.

She shook her head slowly; "Nothing."

"Granger, I have already seen you attempt to lie once today, and it was not a pretty picture. You are absolutely terrible at it. So tell me so I can save myself some time; what's got you looking so ashen?"

Hermione looked up at him, still unsure about what she thought about the current situation. "Snape wants to see my after class."

_I'm far too obvious this time_


	19. Draco's Suspicion

**A/n: **Hello readers! We will see no more lyrics within the story because there are no more to use! As always, enjoy the update and feel free to look on my profile for my facebook and other links! Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Part 1: My Little Secret, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

Hermione couldn't help noting that he was having a hard time stopping their conversation, despite the fact that the class was almost over and she would need to speak to Snape in a few short minutes.

"I'll be outside the room," Malfoy hissed, and she continued to write as he spoke since they were all that Snape was watching anymore, "I'll listen. If he says or does-"

"Malfoy," she cut in, glancing at him, "Calm down. He has another class after this. He cannot do anything truly horrible to me. All he can do is talk."

The blond frowned. "Yes, but about what?"

She shrugged, beginning to collect her items as the bell was about to ring. "I don't know, but I guess we will find out." The bell sounded and she stood, making her way to the Professor's desk. Draco moved slower, eyeing the pair closely. She was certainly putting on a brave face for someone who had been afraid of this conversation ten minutes ago. But he couldn't blame her; she was a Gryffindor, she would never let anyone believe she was afraid.

_Although she already has. _

He stood, waiting until everyone one else was up before departing. He knew Snape's next class was full of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and neither house fancied coming to the dungeons. He could wait outside the classroom for a few minutes without seeming suspicious.

Hopefully that was all it would take.

* * *

"You wanted to speak with me Professor?" she asked when Malfoy finally left. Snape had been pretending to read more papers until now.

"Yes, I did," the man drawled, setting the papers aside. Only then did she note that they were blank, and that he was studying her. She tried not to flinch beneath his gaze. "You and Mr. Malfoy have become close in recent weeks, haven't you?"

She blinked; surprised by the way he chose to start this conversation. "We are the Head students of the school; it makes sense for us to learn to tolerate each other. We have to constantly attend to things together, so we may as well accomplish something in a shorter amount of time."

He didn't look satisfied with her answer, and leant forwards in his desk as he spoke. "That would be a perfect answer Miss Granger, were it not so cliché and overused. Something monumental would need to have happened for yourself and Draco Malfoy to call a truce, otherwise it would not last a single day. I am only left wondering what exactly that might be." His eyes were glimmering, as though he knew what her real answers should be.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, wondering what exactly he was hoping she would say. What was with Snape? "We want to get through our last year easily, not around hours of yelling."

The dark haired man inclined an eyebrow, reaching forwards to grasp her wrist. His hand locked around his skin, and it was happening again. Snape said something, but she could no longer picture him as Severus; in his place stood Alabaster, and her heart hammered. She tore her wrist from his grip, and a startled look crossed his features. She backed up, feeling on edge, and didn't feel any comfort as the back of her thighs hit the table behind her.

"Something wrong?" he asked, rising from his chair, although he already knew something was very wrong indeed. Her eyes were panic-filled now, as they had always been in another life. But was she seeing him as Severus, or another? He could not determine this.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. So what if Snape had been acting strange lately? There was nothing to fear! However the terrifying vision of Alabaster did not fade and she could only clutch at her skirt, hoping her sight would return to normal once again. This was not good. "Nothing," she said quickly, noting that he was drawing closer. Why did he have to do that?

"You're very edgy Miss Granger, perhaps you should relax."

"I'm fine, thank you." She moved away from the table, taking a few steps back down the central hallway between tables. "So what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

He tilted his head at this, stopping as though he now had to think. She was relieved to see that he was done stalking her around the classroom, but wondered what exactly this pause meant.

"Perhaps you can explain to me why Mr. Malfoy is constantly seen leaving your dorm room at night, and lately in the morning? Perhaps you would care to inform me what the Head's are _really_ doing together at night."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. How did he know that? The man would need to be watching her door constantly- which was quite disturbing to consider- or he had someone watching them for him. The portraits rarely ever moved to tell on misbehavior among students, for there was simply too much of that, and unless what they were doing could severely harm people in the school, many of the portraits let things be. "He has come over in the morning occasionally to help me finish a few things off, but that is all. If you are insinuating that perhaps more is going on between us then you would be wrong."

"But am I?

Severus was prying at her personal life, and she could not for the life of her keep speaking about this with him. The atmosphere was uncomfortable, and she almost wished Malfoy had stayed in the room if only to assure her that things were alright throughout her ever-changing vision. She was developing a headache as Alabaster flashed back to be Severus Snape once more.

"What do you want Professor?" she snapped, shaking her head again. If he did not tell her soon, she was leaving.

His hands came to grip her shoulders roughly, and she realized that he had gotten closer as her vision was shifting in and out. A wicked grin was plastered on his face, his hideous nails digging into her flesh. "Tell me Miss Granger," he breathed, getting too close for comfort, "Who do you think I am?"

She jerked her arms up and shoved him away, but the man only took a few steps back. He was close enough to touch her again. "I think you are overstepping your boundaries between a staff member and a student," she snapped, backing away quickly, but that wicked look on his face never faded. The door to the classroom opened and some talkative underclassmen stepped in, baring the colors of Ravenclaw. They gave the duo strange looks as they went to find their seats, and Snape backed off further, almost leering at her as she got to the door.

"Miss Granger, we will talk another time. Perhaps you should relax though. You have no reason to fear me now."

_Now._ The way he said that sent chills up her spine, the underlying meaning pecking at her brain. But she only nodded in response, before turning and darting out of the room. She was quite surprised when she collided with Malfoy outside the door- she had thought he had left by now. Upon noticing her terrified look, he locked a hand onto her arm and dragged her into a nearby alcove, out of sight of the upcoming students who were finally coming down for class.

"Granger," he said immediately, spinning her to face him. Nothing was wrong with her vision now, and he clearly stood out in her mind as Draco. His hands were both now on her arms, forcing her body to stay facing him. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "Yes," she breathed, gently pushing his arms away. "Nothing happened," she assured him quickly, rubbing her head at the concerned look on his face. It was unnerving to know Draco Malfoy could actually be concerned about her, but lately this hadn't been so uncommon. Snape's words continued to dance in her head, his actions replaying even as she spoke.

"Why do you look so pale then?" he snapped, gripping her chin so he could examine her face on one side then the other for any sort of marks.

She shoved his hands away again. "I just saw something," she said, brushing her hair back. They had discussed this once before, why do it again?

"What did you see?" he questioned, and she could see the tension in his face as he spoke. Wow, he really was concerned, and due to that alone she decided it would be alright to open up to him.

So she told him what had gone on. He explained that there had been too many students lingering around for his to use anything to help him hear, but as she told him about the things his supposed Godfather had to say his face seemed to draw together more and more; he looked perplexed.

He rubbed his chin when she finished. "It seems that Snape is hiding more than I thought." He began to pace, and she watched him, unsure what that meant.

"What does that mean?"

He glanced at her, his movement continuing on. "I have noticed so many changes in him recently, it is quite ridiculous. He hasn't been himself since the war, since school began. Like I have told you before Granger, I think he has begun to remember the past, just like you-"

"You never said that," she interrupted slowly.

"Then I have thought about it. Either way, something isn't right and I wouldn't doubt it if he knew more about the past than he wants to let on."

Hermione processed that. "Then why does he only bother me? If I remember correctly, when he was Alabaster Snape decades ago he had a strong dislike for you as well." At that, he stopped his pacing to look up at her and smirked. She frowned at him. "What?"

He walked up to her, brushing hair from her forehead. "You said if you remember right. That means you're starting to believe me Granger."

He met his eyes. "Perhaps I am, but that isn't our topic now is it Malfoy?"

"No," he replied, but his voice seemed airy, light even. "If Snape is remembering anything at all, then it could be very bad for us. We only shared one other lifetime with him, our second lives, for then his family moved to another town for several centuries. He cannot have any more opinions of us than that one life, and you are right then, because he did not like me then either." He pulled his hand away, rubbing his chin. "It's interesting that he can remember at all. I have never encountered something like this before. It was a miracle in itself Granger that you can recall and somewhat accept the lives you have led, but to meet someone else who is going through the same thing? It's strange, almost too much so to be a coincidence."

She frowned. "Well it's not like he could plan this Malfoy. If he didn't remember then he had nothing to think about before either. Something had to have driven those memories back into his mind, just like mine were given back to me. It has to be a coincidence, right? What other options are there."

He shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But that brings up another question as well Granger; what does he want? I don't think it is in his best interest to spill too many things at once; otherwise he won't have anything to hold over either of us. Whatever he wants has to be gained through informing you of such strange things, but what?"

She sat down, the blond following suit. The bell had just rung signaling their next class, but it appeared they had things to discuss before heading there. "I don't know Malfoy. He was strange, creepy even. Do you think… do you think he has the same wants as he did centuries ago?" She remembered very well the man's attack on her person, the almost forceful actions that could've proceeded had Malfoy's past life, Dreu, not have been around to assist her. The thought of her potions Professor wanting to do sinister things to her made her shiver.

"It could be possible," he replied, reaching over to rub her arm as he noted her discomfort. He would not admit it at this time, but he enjoyed this. Not the topic at hand, but the fact that she was willingly sitting there for once speaking with him about these things. A smile pulled at his lips but he refused to let it show. It wouldn't do them any good right now. "But if that were the case I think maybe situations would be different. If he was aiming to do something of that nature wouldn't he have asked you to come back for detention or something, so no one could disturb? I don't know Granger; your idea seems logical but something about Snape's own actions makes me think that is not really the case."

"Yes, but what else would he want then?"

Silence followed. It seemed that neither of them knew the answer to that. Out of the man's grasp, sitting in the alcove, she had to agree with Malfoy that although Snape had been disturbing to be alone with the man had not groped her or done anything in that sort of nature. Hermione could only assume- and hope- that Draco's speculation was right.

"So what do you propose we do?" she asked, glancing at him. "You're the one that deals with this; you have to have some sort of idea as to what we should do from here."

"I already told you, this is something I have never really encountered before. I can't quite say what we should do from here."

"So we wait?"

"No Granger, we watch and wait. Everyone's motive is revealed at some point, and sometime Snape has to reveal what he is after."

She sighed and rested her head on his nearby shoulder. Although she didn't seem to really note what she had just done, he did, and his head whipped around to look at the top of hers. Was she actually allowing herself to be vulnerable around him?

"Malfoy," she said, drawing him from that thought.

"Hmm?"

"Has it always been this complicated for you? Is there always something unanswered like this that you have dealt with in your lifetimes that you just don't understand?"

He reached up, daring to softly stroke her hair. When she didn't hex him, he decided it was just the mood of the moment that was allowing this to happen, but he would take it. "It's always hard to live with the memory of your past Granger; you just have to learn how to cope." He moved his hand down to her shoulder so he could hug her closer. "This is just a minor thing; one person. It will pass and we will find out what he is after."

"I hope so."

They sat in each other's silence, both contemplating the man who was currently teaching across the hall. Did he truly remember? And why did he seem to want to isolate Hermione if what he wanted was not sexual like it had once been? They didn't know, couldn't know at that point, they just knew that something heavy and daunting had suddenly come down to rest over them, waiting for the perfect moment to rear up and strike one of them.

Draco hoped it was Snape. He had waited six centuries to have this girl, to have her remember him. Now she was beginning to accept and maybe even believe what he had been saying, and was using him for comfort in this moment. He didn't know how in Merlin's name this lifetime out of all of them had become the one that led him to this near happiness, but he wouldn't argue.

Someone like Alabaster Snape was not about to take that away from him.

**Part 2: Tears that Fall, 1489 (Life One)**

**Lowell Belmont Malfoy and Penelope Elliana**

The congression was held the same day for both of the fallen, their coffins set on either side of the Minister, the gathering of people split down the middle with Malfoy's on one side and almost-Krum's on the other. Penelope's whole family had com of course, but so had her future family. They stood beside their son that day as they buried his would be wife, never knowing the hand he had played in her death.

No one there knew she had been murdered, and certainly not by Henry. There was no explaination to the girl's death along with Lowell's suicide, and it left many questions unanswered. Had he killed her when they were planning to run away together, and then decided to hang himself in the aftermath? Was this a set up for bigger plans, created by someone that wanted to see the pure, rich family lines die one by one? No one knew, and no one ever would.

His sister's cried for him, his brother held back the pain. It was Lowell's parents that seemed unfazed by the death as his body was placed beneath the earth. Their expressions were unreadable, revealing little of what they thought. The same could not be said for Penelope's father, who let the tears stain his old cheeks. Her brother allowed no tears to fall, but his eyes said it all. And if anyone had asked him, he would have told them the suspicions he had harbored for years.

He knew she had someone visit at night, someone that made her happy. He could see that joy still lingering in her eyes in the morning at breakfast. And looking at the bodies now, he could understand.

Lowell had been her lover, not her husband. And the man who had lost her as a wife was nothing more than a shadow of someone she couldn't have. If anyone had asked him, he would've told them that they had died for each other.

He thought it was as cliché as it comes, but it was romantic and so very like his sister, and for that he could not judge.

**Part 3: Sent and Signed by Someone You have Reason to Hate, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

They did not speak again until nightfall. Hermione had excused herself from dinner when she saw the blond get up and beckon that they should go with his head, when hurried footsteps behind her caught her attention. She glanced back to see Ginny running towards her, and stopped walking to await the girl's arrival. Better to speak to her there than up by her room where Draco would have to wait.

The first words out of her mouth were not pleasant. "Tell me you aren't going to go see him" she begged, and Hermione immediately knew who she was referring to.

"I don't think that is any of your business," she snapped in return. Ginny had butted her way into situations that had nothing to do with her earlier that morning, and Hermione was in no mood to deal with that again.

"I saw him get up when you did," she said, crossing her arms. "Hermione, he is bad news! What would Harry and Ron think?"

"Well, if you weren't constantly following me around Ginny, perhaps I would be able to tell them on my own. If I want to spend time speaking with him then that is my own business-"

"He slept over," she hissed, keeping her angry tone low as a couple of first years passed by. "That isn't friends- that is friends with benefits-"

"Oh Ginny," she snapped, crossing her own arms, "Will you please shut up? Like I have told you before you don't know anything that is going on so will you please give it a rest? If anything between myself and Malfoy was going on I would tell my friends, but there is nothing to tell about! We talk, that's it."

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure Hermione? I just don't want you making mistakes-"

"Oh Merlin Ginny you are not my mother! Will you please give it a rest? I heard you preach the same things this morning and I don't need a second dose. Will you kindly remove yourself from all my activities now? It's tedious, and although I am sure you are just looking out for me I don't need my own personal shadow."

The ginger's eyes widened. "I am not trying to be your mother! I just want to make sure you remember who you are dealing with- this is _Malfoy _we are talking about after all. You never really know what is going on in that slimy git's head! I just want you to be careful."

She sighed, deciding that Ginny was probably going to keep denying any of the points Hermione brought up. She really didn't have time for this girl right now anyways. "I am being safe Ginny, now will you please trust me that I know what I'm getting into? I have been going to school with Malfoy longer than you have; I know how to handle him." A mental image of their third year flashed through her mind, and she couldn't help her smile at the memory; no matter how she felt about the blond now, in that moment punching him had felt amazing.

The girl gave her a look. "Well, if you're sure…"

"I've been sure since I stepped out here," she huffed, tired of the conversation. "Now I do need to go; I have some things to attend to with Malfoy, and the longer I stand here speaking with you the harder to work with he will be. He will make the rest of my day a living hell if I make him wait any longer."

Her words did nothing to comfort the redhead on this strange relationship, but she only nodded in response. Hermione gave her arm a quick "thank you" squeeze before she turned and continued on her way. She didn't hear any footsteps, and by the time she had rounded the next corner she decided Ginny had finally taken the hint and was not going to follow along. Perfect.

On her way she passed Snape. It was just a normal reaction, but she felt herself unconsciously moving further across the hall from him until they were past each other. Only when her shoulder hit the wall did she realize how out of her way she had gone to be away from the man. Damn him, she would have to figure out just what was up with him, and soon, before she lost her sanity trying to come to a conclusion. She was already letting herself believe that Malfoy of all people was telling the truth, and she hoped that she could come to terms with all of this someday. But for now, she had other things to attend to.

* * *

When she arrived at her dorm door, she noted that Malfoy was nowhere in sight. Whispering her password, she glanced around.

"This came for you Granger," he called, startling her. She looked over in the direction of his voice, watching him come out of the shadows from behind an armor suit, something thin in his hand. He tossed the piece of paper to her; it was a letter actually.

"Do you always have to sneak around," she hissed, stepping inside her room with Malfoy hot on her heels. The portrait slid shut as she dropped her bags on the couch.

"I am a Slytherin; of course I have to sneak around." He crossed his arms, inclining to the letter in her hand as she took a seat. "Read that."

It was a demand, not a request, and she turned her gaze hard as she continued to look on at him. "Must you be so persistent? It's my mail after all, I will read it when I please. I am certain you didn't bring your own letters up here just for me to read."

He rolled his eyes. "Quit being fucking difficult and read it will you?"

Hermione inclined an eyebrow at this. He seemed a bit tense concerning this piece of mail. Flipping the letter over, she discovered why. There on the front was her name, postmarked by one of the few people Malfoy still seemed to truly hate; Viktor Krum.

**Part 4: If They Only Knew, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Severus Snape**

He sat at his desk, fingering a quill. The discussion with Hermione Granger earlier in the day had gone exactly as he had hoped; the girl was confused, on edge, and worried, just as he had expected. And to make matters even better, Draco Malfoy was shooting him death glares in the corridors now, which was something that only made the greasy man smirk.

He knew they were the ones. It had taken a lot of thought at first when things started coming to, and he had slipped into hiding for a while. Confused and unsure about what was going on in his very mind, he had missed out on the very end of the war and Voldemort's defeat. That didn't really matter though, since he was having an inner war.

It had taken almost two months for him to realize why his memories only dated back to the 1500's. It seemed that this set of years had a specific meaning to him, something that had once bothered him but was now slowly piecing itself together. And when school began again and it was out that he had survived, the answer to everything came to him.

Hermione Granger had once co.-existed in his past lives with him, and she had once been someone of his fancy. But it seemed that she would forever be kept in the dark about the hidden truths. Her close involvement and perhaps even _trust _with Draco could only be the result of her own memories coming back into her mind. But the real question was, how much did each of them understand about his current role within Hogwarts's? By this time they had to understand that he did remember something, especially after the specific things he told the girl. It was his entire point to strike at her first.

She might not understand, but he knew that Malfoy did. He may have only ever crossed paths with them in one other lifetime, but it was enough. After so much time contemplating and using his advanced potion skills to help ease the kayos of his mind, he had come to some horrible conclusions that he was all too eager to fulfill.

He had not died in this life yet, and he had been granted something more in that near death moment. But was this sight of his past a gift of a curse? He knew naught, only that those two students were key pieces in one of his lifetimes, the only time he could recall that he died an ill-fated death.

He wasn't sure yet if the Granger girl understood fully what was happening, but he could almost assume that Malfoy did. For a boy of eighteen, his eyes held the knowledge of someone centuries older than he, and that was the indicator to Snape that perhaps the boy possessed the same ability he now did. And perhaps if the boy was not a star in his memories, a star that went through with evil deeds, he could've gone to the boy for help in this situation, and they may have spoken.

But there were reasons they could not do that, reasons that would be brought into the light very soon. He picked up his wand, thinking of all the things that slim piece of wood could do to a person. The only question was who deserved the punishment for what had happened? Hermione or Draco?

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. That truly was the daunting question in his mind.


	20. Draco's Need

**A/n: **Focuses on romance more than any of the other chapters. Enjoy. It's going to open up some major shit soon :D Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling. Also, you've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

If you want, like my facebook page. The link is up on my profile. I update regulary.

* * *

**Part 1: Feelings, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

"A love letter?" Draco spat out as she ripped the seal of the letter open. Hermione could only roll her eyes at the blond and at the jealously laced in his words. Merlin, she knew he felt something for her after she began remembering things, but she had yet to really see those jealous streaks peek through. Sure, there had been that time at the bar with Viktor, but she had been too drunk to remember much of that. And as far as Snape was concerned, well, she was almost thankful for the protectiveness there.

"Doubtful," she replied, pulling the letter out. He was quick to step behind her; his dominate height allowing him the ability to read the contents over her shoulder. She huffed at this spectacle, but it did not stop her from opening the letter with him right there and proceeding to read it. Really, how bad could it be?

_Hermione~_

_I have been trying to write to you for a long time. My Quidditch keeps me busy. I would like to see you again. When are you free? Last time we did not spend a lot of time together, we hardly spoke since we were drinking. I like spending time with you. I have a single day to myself next week on Wednesday. Are you available then? Hogsmeade like the last time? Please owl soon so I can make arrangements._

_~Viktor_

She inclined an eyebrow after finishing the note, which half a moment later was ripped out of her hands by a livid blond. She let both her eyebrows pop up as she watched him pace the room a second time, rereading a letter addressed to _her. _Sitting down, she waited for him to finish his pacing. Really, his reaction was not necessary.

"See, a love letter," he grumbled, tossing the letter back to her as he finished. Huffing, he collapsed back onto the couch across from her, arms crossed over his chest. She could practically feel the fire in his eyes, and it again unsettled her. She could understand by now that he felt someone for her, something deep, but she was not on that level with him. No indeed, she was still trying to accept the blond as a person, perhaps even an estranged friend. But each time something like this arose, that scorching anger reappeared. It was almost possessive, and that was not something she liked. But then, she never told him she wasn't his either. He seemed to believe so; it was obvious by his reaction, even sometimes by the way he looked at her. She didn't always like to acknowledge it, but it was fairly obvious that he felt things for her that she could not return. She was so confused by her clashing emotions sometimes; parts of her that had loved Draco Malfoy in her past lives wanted to fall against him whenever he was near and smother him with kisses, while her present self had a hard time talking about some things with him. Those were the conflicting feelings that kept her up late at night, her true feelings overclouded by the unexplained ones.

"He is a friend," she replied evenly, folding her own arms. "There is nothing romantic between the two of us Malfoy; you should know that. I don't feel anything for Viktor- not since the Yule Ball. Trust me; one kiss was enough to make me see how I really felt about him." She gestured to the paper by her side. "Even if his intentions are for a relationship or anything of the sort, it is not something I would pursue. Viktor has been a friend of mine for years and that is something I will not jeopardize. Will you stop being so paranoid now? You act as though we are together all the time."

_Because I want us to be! _He bit his tongue, fighting back the retorts that piled his head. Obviously she was not at a level where she could see his real emotions, or she was otherwise choosing to ignore them. Either way, he knew she did not feel the way he did, and it would be suicidal for him to ask now, for him to imply otherwise. He was enjoying the time he was getting to spend with her, and although he hoped for more, he would suffer along at her side until their deaths if that was all she could ever see them as; mutual friends.

That thought practically made his heart explode. He wasn't even sure he could accept that reality, not now after getting so close to having his love once again. It would be heartbreaking, and the sort of rejection he was not sure he could live through. It was one thing for her to turn him down when there was nothing for her to remember, but now everything was so very different. He did not want to consider what it would be like to not have her after so long, after getting so close.

"Will you go see him?" Draco finally asked the tenseness obvious in the tone of his voice. "Will you go see him in Hogsmeade?"

She shrugged. "Wednesday is a school day; I would have to cut class to see him."

Relief washed through him. "So you won't then?"

"I never said that," she replied, refolding the letter.

His lip twitched. "Don't do this to me," he whispered.

Hermione's head shot up at his tone, thrown by the sudden change in his attitude. The angry, cold exterior was now gone, melted away into something she was unsure how to handle; a compassionate Malfoy. That was really the only word now to describe the emotions that now hid behind his eyes. "Don't do what?"

"You know very well what I mean Granger," he said, his eyes boring into her. She squirmed under the intensity of his gaze, unable to recall a time she could ever remember him looking so very serious. "Don't do this to me; don't give me swayable answers. You know very well how I feel about you, don't even try to deny it. So please, for Merlin's sake, don't put me in suspense. Are you going to go with him? I need to know Granger."

She was unsure how to reply. He looked so concerned suddenly that it seemed almost unreal. Lately she had gotten used to seeing Malfoy portray emotions she once thought he was void of, but this was new. He looked _desperate _for an answer. And when she finally replied, she found she wasn't even able to control the words that slipped from between her lips.

"I don't know."

Ultimately, she knew it was the wrong answer. His face hardened, obviously meaning he had hoped to hear something else. Not wasting a second, he stood and smoothed down impeccable robes. "Well then Granger, I don't think we need to really discuss anything tonight. I will just leave you with your bloody thoughts. Goodnight."

His farewell was clipped and sharp, and she could almost hear the hurt in his voice. He had wanted her to say no, that she wouldn't go see him, but that was not what she said.

"We have plenty to discuss Malfoy," she tried, but the blond wasn't listening. Even as the words slipped from her lips he was stepping out of her door. She jumped to her feet, hurrying to follow.

"Not tonight," he said sadly, resisting the urge to turn as he heard footsteps behind him. Refusing to remain there for her to grab, spin, and argue with, he continued on his way, already headed to his common room when her voice rang down the corridor.

"Why are you so persistent for me to feel something for you Malfoy? What do you want from me?! I can't just change how I feel about you overnight; I only just got back to learning everything again!"

He didn't respond to her cries. She had known for several weeks now, and she had plenty of time to herself to contemplate things. He was growing tired of waiting for her to make a choice about him, and her careless remarks to meeting with Viktor Krum of all people were painful. If she couldn't make up her mind, fine; he just didn't want to be there if she really did intend to break his heart.

Draco couldn't recall when he last felt so torn; did he stay by her side and loyally help her like he planned to until her feelings changed, or did he leave now and avoid the greater hurt that would come if she could not learn to love him again. He just didn't know what to do in this moment, and kept right on walking to avoid another conversation.

Leave it to Krum to ruin things for him, _again_.

* * *

Hermione lay awake long into the night later, thinking about her conversation with Malfoy. She vaguely remembered the kiss they shared, the one that sent all of her memories tumbling back into her mind, but that was the only show of affection they had ever given in this life. Sure, she knew he was being kinder to her because deep down he was practically in love with her, but her feelings were still torn. How did she feel about him? And Viktor? And even Snape in this equation; where did one even place him?

It was with that jumble of thoughts that Hermione fell asleep.

_Dreu Antoine Malfoy (14) and Harmony Joan Potter (18), 1537_

_She felt uneasy. Her encounter with Alabaster Snape had sent her heart into a whirlwind of beats, and she could only be thankful that Dreu had come to her rescue. Of all the people to attack her, she had not expected it to be him. And apparently, neither did her husband- Alexander Potter._

_She had told the entire story to the man she had married upon meeting up with him again. Drunk as usual, he scoffed at her story and declared that she was delusion and tired, and in need of serious sleep. Offended that he so easily blew off something that really had happened to her, she had locked him from their room. Too drunk to properly use his wand, she could only presume that he had fallen asleep somewhere outside their door or against it by the sound of his snores. She did not open it, too insulted to care for the man. Why ever would she make up such a horrendous lie? When Alexander was not drunk, he could be quite caring. But of course, those moments were few and far between and she found herself quite lonely that night, nearly wishing she had asked Dreu to stay the night with her at her home, if only so that she would have someone to speak to. Alabaster's intentions had been horrifying, and her bloody husband did not even have enough compassion to take her seriously. He deserved to sleep on the floor tonight._

_Having showered twice, she decided nothing would get the feel of Alabaster's callused hands on her for many a day. Perhaps if her husband showed her some concern, some compassion, it would erase his touch. But tonight, she would not know that bliss. And soon, she fell into a frightful sleep where Dreu did not return. _

_It was the tapping sound on glass that awoke her from the nightmares. Struggling to take in what was going on, she used her wand to light some candles. There outside her window perched an owl; one that carried an envelope. Curious by nature, she braved the cold weather to let the owl in and see what had arrived. She shivered when she read the signature of Alabaster clearly printed on the front. What could he possibly want? She thought of going to wake her husband in the corridor and show him the cold proof that something amiss had gone on that night, but decided against it. Best to read it first, yes? She tore the envelope open._

_Dearest Harmony~_

_I apologize for thy inexcusable behavior tonight. Please accept thy sincerest apologies. Thou deserves to be treated as much more than that. We shall both be most grateful that Lord Malfoy's son remained and stopped what would be but a tragedy. Shall we thank him sometime? The man deserves this. Do not dally on what was almost, and please move on with thy thoughts. It was but a break in my control, that tis all. Do not worry thou husband with such a simple mistake, yes?_

_Take care Harmony._

_~Alabaster Snape_

_She resisted the urge to gag. It was as fake of a letter if there ever was one! There was not an ounce of sincerity in his words, only the hope to avoid issues with her husband. That had to be the one and only reason this was sent- for Dreu had been a witness to what had nearly happened. Had no one been around, she doubted this would have been sent._

_But Alabaster was right about one thing; she was most thankful that Dreu had remained and stopped the insane, disturbed man. _

* * *

A week flew by quickly, and Hermione's memory dream was implanted in her head. It was like her mind was trying to sway her to feel compassion and perhaps even _love_ for Malfoy. But she could not simply make those emotions appear. They had to be built.

Wednesday came sooner than she cared to admit. Since her rough dispute with Malfoy, the pair had been ignoring each other. She knew he was hurt, but what could she do? She could not simply make herself feel things she didn't yet- or never would.

And that was why she had decided to go see Viktor in Hogsmeade. She was currently walking down the path to town; she had done something that went against her whole person and had decided to skip a day of school. She would never determine if Malfoy was for her or not if she did not go and try out other things- like Viktor. Although she believed his intentions were not to seek anything more than friendship from her, Malfoy's words from the previous week kept jumping out in her mind as she walked. Damn him.

"You're so quick to ignore my words," came a voice, and immediately she whipped her wand out. Half a moment later, she realized this was unneeded. She would know that usual drawl anywhere.

"I want to see a friend," she replied, crossing her arms and turning, she found the blond standing to her left as expected. "Are you following me again Malfoy?"

He frowned, looking at her drawn wand. "Planning to hex me are you Granger?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're ignoring my question."

"You're ignoring my wishes. I asked you why you had to go see him, when we both know he only wants to get in your pants."

Her eyes widened a fraction. "Must you speak like that? I will have you know that Viktor is not a half brained twit, and he doesn't treat women like rubbish. Even _if_ he was interested in me Malfoy, it would be for romantic-relationship type purposes, not sexual."

"Are you sure," he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "You told me yourself that you don't feel anything for him, but that doesn't mean he feels the same. Look at us for example, our opinions on each other are quite different from what I can see."

Hermione flushed, looking down. He was going to make her feel bad. "I don't know how I feel about you yet."

"Well you should," he snapped, drawing closer. Placing a finger beneath her chin, he made her look at him once more, and she did not fight him. "I don't expect you to declare your undying love at this moment Granger; I just expect that brain of yours to process things a bit faster. What keeps you from making a decision about how you feel about me? Is it that you fear the answer, or that you pity my feelings?" His hand locked on her chin as she tried to pull away. He was tired of playing games with her. "I don't want your pity; I want an answer. I _need_ one."

She huffed. "What if I don't _have_ an answer? What if I can't decide Malfoy," she challenged, narrowing his eyes. He was being so demanding lately, it was aggravating.

The smirk that crossed over his face was not the reaction she expected. "Then you're just forcing me to help you along." She had a snarky reply to that almost immediately, but he never gave her the chance to say it. Bending down, he caught her lips with his, the hold he had maintained on her chin keeping her from pulling away.

At first she wanted to push him off, and even attempted to shove him away, but one toned arm snaked itself around her hips, pulling her closer to him and stopping her arms as they were pinned between the pair. She glared up at him, his cool grey eyes meeting hers as he continued to hold her there in his embrace against her will, his lips toying with her own.

And then he really decided to tempt fate. Snaking out a fierce tongue, he danced it across her closed lips. Startled by a sensation she had never really experienced in this life, she gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen what he had started.

It was only then that the walls began to fall away. The sensation was new, the feelings something she could not recall experiencing as Hermione before. Her body was suddenly on fire as his tongue danced over hers, inviting her to play. And she was suddenly all too willing. Letting her eyes fall closed, her arms slowly moved to their own accord and snaked around his neck, fastening them there and tightening their hold. Draco would be lying if he said he was not pleased with her reaction, and let his guard fall down so he could really enjoy himself.

It only lasted a few scarce moments longer, and it took all of Draco's might to pull away from this. He was finally getting what he wanted, but he had something to deliver to her, something to remind the stubborn brunette of. After all, he was selfish and did not intend to share.

Barely a few inches back, he spoke, "Let me know if Krum's tactless kisses make you feel anything like that," he said, letting her go. He released her chin, her waist, and stepped back, masking his expression. It was now her turn to think.

The look that overtook her face was priceless. "What? Malfoy, weren't you just saying-"

"That you shouldn't go? Yes, but that was before I gave you a kiss that had you hanging off me." He smirked at her frown. "I gave you something to think about, Merlin Granger I have given you everything I can to think about, but now it's all up to you. I have nothing else I can give you, no more methods of persuasion- at least none that you will accept." Her eyebrows shot up at this. "I don't know what you want from me Granger, what you expect, but you know my desires. At this point, I can only hope you don't let history repeat itself."

"Malfoy-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Don't start Granger. Don't give me anymore false hopes. Don't say things you aren't sure about, things out of spite, just don't bloody talk. You've talked and talked and talked to me, and so far we have accomplished very little. You remember- which is a big deal- but obviously it's not enough to sway you to me. I can talk to you forever, but it will not speed up a process that is six centuries in the making. It is all up to you if we are together, if this chain ends, if you can even _feel _real love for me- or anything close to it. We have talked, and you have had a lot of time to debate things. All that is left is an answer Granger." He pulled at his cloak as a strong wind blew past. "I do request though, that if you do find that your feelings lie elsewhere, that you do not seek me out again."

Her eyes were wide, trying to follow the large amount of things he was saying to her in this long rush. "Malfoy-" she started again, but he only shook his head.

"Go speak to the bastard," he spit out, his gaze cold. "Go do all the deliberating and thinking and trying you need to Granger, but don't come looking for me if you come to a different answer than the one we both know I want to hear." He inclined his head back towards the path. "And you better scatter; you're probably going to be late for your bloody meeting with Krum."

She sighed in defeat. It didn't appear that anything short of an "I love you" declaration was going to set the blond's nerves at ease. Had she really been holding out on him? She didn't think so. But replying would be futile. Everything she attempted to say was shot down. Reluctantly, she nodded to him.

"I guess I'll just go then," she muttered, her lips still burning from his intense kiss.

"Yes, you should," he replied hotly, not caring when she flinched. He couldn't allow himself to at that moment, nor could he let himself call out her name when she turned to walk on her way to Hogsmeade once again. God damnit, what more did he need to do to get her to see the light?

_I guess I just have to wait and see._

**Part 2: Deliberation, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

He was frigid by the time he made it back to Hogwarts. The castle itself was chilly, and he knew he would not be truly warm again until he reached his common room and able to sit by the fire. He would quite possibly end up finding himself a bottle while he was at it. The woman was now tearing his heart to shreds even before she gave him an answer, but her silence had been enough to cut him. Could he really do nothing to influence her decision?

So caught up in this thoughts, the blond never even noticed his Godfather walking towards him in the corridor until he spoke.

"You are without Granger tonight I see," the tall man said, catching Draco's attention. His posture immediately stiffened as the greasy haired man spoke. He was no longer comfortable speaking about her with him at all. He hadn't been since he noticed the changes, although Granger had never really been a topic of discussion between them in the first place.

"She does have friends," he spat bitterly, in no mood to deal with dear old Snape. He wasn't sure what to think of him, and since he had yet to discuss this issue in depth with the girl in question, he wasn't sure if he should pry for answers to some unspoken questions or make no assumptions until they knew what he was after. If it wasn't sex like they had originally been fearing, then what?

_Fucking hell, I just can't get her off my mind can I?_

"That is true, but you and the girl have become quite close recently, haven't you?" His eyes glimmered for a single moment, and Draco felt that usual pang of protectiveness rear its head again at that. He hated to think Snape wanted anything to do with her after their unpleasant past.

"I don't see how this is a concern to you," he snapped.

Snape shrugged, keeping his emotions unreadable and in check. Draco didn't like that one bit. "Perhaps it's not; I was merely making an observation."

"Should you really be paying such close attention to her," he snapped, and he knew it sounded a bit strange but didn't care. Snape needed to stay the hell away.

Again, he shrugged. "I could always ask you the same thing Mr. Malfoy."

* * *

They were back again at the same club, only this time it was in broad daylight. Hermione found the atmosphere far easier to handle when it wasn't overcrowded and filled with loud music, although she couldn't really enjoy it with all of Malfoy's bloody words replaying in her mind.

She also knew she was partially avoiding Krum, which was awful. In the frequent silence that had now last twenty minutes the Quidditch star had consumed three shots. She thought it was a little much in the short timeframe.

"Malfoy did not come," he noted at length, and she was surprised to hear him bring the blond of all people up.

"Of course he didn't," she replied, giving him an odd look. "Why would he come?"

Viktor shrugged. "He was… very protective and concerned with you the last time I visited. I thought he was your boyfriend, but Harry and Ron said no."

She was quick to nod in agreement. "They are right; I'm not involved with Malfoy." _Or at least, I'm not yet. _

A smile broke across his features at that. "Oh, good."

They quickly finished their last drinks and left after that. Hermione wandered aimlessly through a few stores she always visited whenever she came to the town, Viktor on her heels the entire time. It was after they had exited the fourth bookstore that he requested they sit down, and in the freezing cold they made the ridiculous choice to sit outside.

"Hermione," he said, mispronouncing her name as he once had. She wondered if it was just due to the cold.

"Yes?"

He slid a bit closer on the bench. "You say you are not involved with Malfoy?"

She glanced at him closely. "No…"

The man's hand came up, cautiously dancing on her cheek. "Are you involved with anyone?"

She let her eyebrows draw together. "Not at the moment."

He leaned in a bit, and she already knew what was going to happen next. "Perhaps… perhaps then you would like to be involved with me?"

"Viktor-" she began, but was cut off as his lips came down to rest on hers just as Malfoy's had done mere hours before. Well, not exactly like Malfoy's. Where his lips had captured hers and sucked her into a magnificent spell, his only rested against hers, kissing her with little compassion. Sure, she could tell that he had skill, but as she continued to kiss her she could feel the difference.

There was no heat, no longing, no desire. Just as Malfoy had dared her to feel. Had he known she could not feel that way for another? Or had it been sheer hope that she would not fall into Viktor's kiss the same way she did his?

Come to think of it, hadn't he been the one who pointed out that Viktor would probably wish to kiss her and possibly try for a relationship with her? Was the man psychic, or was he really just able to tell Krum's intentions so well?

She pulled away, turning her face to the side and his face immediately drew back. "Viktor," she said her voice stronger this time, "Please stop."

When she looked back she immediately felt bad, for the expression on his face could only be read as hurt. "You don't like?"

Hermione attempted to give him a smile, but it felt fake. "No, I did," she lied, "But… it doesn't feel right." She got off the bench, shaking her head. "I should've known," she muttered.

"What," Krum asked from behind her, sounding quite confused by the turn of events.

But for Hermione, the whirlwind of emotions was suddenly beginning to clear. She felt like an idiot for ignoring such obvious things. How could she have been so stupid? Turning back, she could only shake her head. "I have to go."

"What? Where? Why?"

She was already backing away as he spoke. "I have to go, I have to fix something." She turned to go, but he caught her arm.

"Why? Did I do something wrong? Did I push?"

For her part, she didn't dare to turn back. She knew she was hurting him by her quick rejection, but she couldn't help it. The realization of her foolishness was now eating at her by the second. "No, you did nothing wrong, you just opened my eyes."

"To what," he asked, and she flinched at the hurt in his voice.

She shook her head slowly, pulling gently from his grasp. "My own stupidity; something I have been putting off. Some would say it's a decision six centuries in the making. I've been trying to figure things out, to understand every minute detail, when the answer to so many questions has been standing in front of me the entire time."

"What do you mean?"

Finally, she glanced over her shoulder, only looking at him briefly. "How to end someone's immortal punishment."

"What does that mean," he cried as she took off. He feared she would slip on the ice, but luck was on her side and kept her upright as she bolted. He did not chase after her, for he was far too confused. Did his kiss really just send her into someone else's arms?

* * *

**A/n: **Keep reading and reviewing! The number of reviews plummeted last chapter, and I miss hearing your thoughts. If you have the time or just want to say something you thought, saw, liked, leave a comment for me please :)


	21. Hermione's Horror

**A/n: **You readers might hate me for this, but there is reasoning for what happens in this chapter. You will understand in the end, I promise! Leave a review and let me you're your thoughts anyway, even if you are upset with the turn of events! Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Part 1: Wrong, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

She bolted back through the main doors to the school. Upon entering, she had to collapse on the floor. Half-running half-jogging back to Hogwarts was tiresome work and she almost thought she would pass out. But the notion to go speak to Draco was high and after only a few minutes rest she was up again, her breathing almost back to normal. She would check his dorm first and then begin searching other places; wherever the blond had gone to exactly was beyond her, but she was certain she could find him if she only tried.

She wasn't quite sure what to say to him yet, and that forced her to walk slowly instead of hurry along the corridors to his room. That "I love you" declaration still seemed a bit farfetched in her mind, but there was most certainly something there. If a kiss with Krum set her mind spinning for the arrogant blonde than that had to be a sign, yes?

Hermione was careful to quieten her steps a bit as she heard voices. If someone was having an argument it was her job as Head Girl to do something about it and make sure nothing got out of hand. Pausing to lean against the wall and listen, she was alarmed to hear what she did.

"You will stay away from her," said the voice of Snape, which only caused her eyes to widen in alarm. Great, now she would have to avoid that hall entirely; something about Snape still worried her, and she would heed Malfoy's words to stay away from him.

"Of course," came the reply, freezing her in place Merlin, she knew that voice, needed to speak with that voice, and the words spilling from his mouth were like a slap in the face. What was Malfoy doing speaking with Snape?

"I don't understand why you didn't listen to me in the beginning."

"Nor do I."

She backed away slowly. Now she had to be hearing things. Snape had probably heard her coming and decided to fuck with her mind. Malfoy was probably back in his room, dwelling on thoughts as usual. Without waiting to hear what else would be said, she turned and hurried off, no longer caring if someone heard her footsteps.

* * *

"Malfoy," she called, banging against the heavy picture. Damn her, she should've learned his password. "Malfoy, please open up! I know you're in there." The person inside the portrait glared at her.

"Do you mind," the man snapped, someone she had barely paid attention to when coming there before.

"Sorry," she said, dropping her arms. "I just need to speak with him."

The person inside the portrait sighed. "He isn't here; hasn't returned since breakfast this morning. Perhaps you should try looking elsewhere."

Her heart sank a degree. He wasn't there. Backing away, she nodded slowly. "Thanks," she said quietly, turning quickly away. She should probably wait for him there in case he returned, but she didn't want to. She dreaded thinking where he had been while she was away figuring out her real emotions.

Her next idea was that he had gone to wait for her by her dorm so they could talk. She still refused to believe that he had been speaking with Snape. Hurrying quickly to her next location, she carelessly ran into a figure that was rounding the corner, the force propelling them both into the ground.

"I'm sorry," she immediately said, sitting up in the corridor to brush herself off. Reaching over to make sure she hadn't harmed whoever she hit, her hand froze. Well of course they would find each other like this!

"Granger, watch yourself," Draco said coldly, his tone catching her off guard. Even when he was pissed his tone was filled more with anger, not ice. He stood and did not offer to help her up. By the time she had gained her footing, he was already starting away.

"Malfoy, wait! I needed to talk to you!"

He scoffed, pausing in his steps. This gave her the chance to rush up and grasp his wrist. Immediately, he shook her off and spun around. "Well, I have no reason to speak to you, _Mudblood_. Couldn't you tell by my rudeness? I have no desire to hold any sort of conversation with you, so leave me alone and stay out of my way." He ripped his wrist from her grasp, giving her a hard shove away from him.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Did you just call me a Mudblood? You haven't called me that in ages-"

"Yes, and I thought it was time to dig into my old bag of names," he snapped in return, crossing his arms.

"But why? What's wrong with you Malfoy; you're acting strange. I know you are angry at me about earlier-"

"Yes, _angry_," he replied, pulling out his wand. She had hers out in a moment too, ready to defend herself. In the shadows she could only vaguely make out his face, but there appeared to be very angry lines forming there. What in Merlin's name was wrong with him?

"Do you know Granger that I have spent the better part of six centuries chasing after you? Pathetic really, when I realized that you would never even want me. And it's obvious, considering you ran off to go see that bastard Krum-"

"That's exactly what I came to talk to you about," she cut in, shaking her head quickly. "Yes, I went to see Krum, yes I didn't stay here but it made me realize-"

"Realize what? That you're going to let him shag you now?"

"Draco," she explained, not even noticing that she used his real name, "Where are you getting these ideas? What's wrong with you!? Why are you being so crude? I heard you speaking with Snape earlier-"

He lunged at her then, pinning her to the pillar behind her. Immediately, Hermione's eyes filled with alarm. What did he think he was doing? He got so protective when anyone was around but _this _kind of behavior was alright? What the fuck? Again, the shadows concealed the better part of his face.

_Something is definitely wrong here. _

"What did you hear," he hissed, pressing her into the pillar. She found her arms pinned, her guard dropped. After all this time of speaking the Draco she may have not learned to love him but she had thought she could trust him. Obviously, that was not the case. "What did you hear us saying?"

"Does it matter," she spat back, her eyes livid. He couldn't just flip emotions this quickly; there had to be some sort of reasoning behind it. "I thought you wanted me to stay away from Snape because we agreed he had hidden motives! But you were corresponding with the supposed enemy! Whose side are you on anyway? What good does it do you to tell me about my past, _our_ past, if you only seek to turn on me? You could've done that without telling me anything, so why the sudden attitude change!?"

Draco blinked slowly at this, fighting his inner battle. Part of his mind wanted to pull away because he could see he was hurting her, but the dominate part of his mind at the moment, the part that he couldn't control, decided not to care. Her questions were getting to him, but he found himself powerless to do anything but sit back and watch the horrors unfold.

His body slammed her into the pillar again, her head snapping back to hit the hard concrete as well. Instead of letting her head fall forwards again, a pale hand came to lock around her slim throat, and he was powerless to stop his actions.

"Stop talking," he snarled, his tone furious. "Stop fucking talking and listen; we're not going to talk again, and you're going to stay as far away from me as you possibly can."

At that, he stepped away and let her body fall forwards onto the stone coughing, her airway having been cut off for a moment. Through tangles of brown hair she looked up at the man she had come rushing back to Hogwarts to see. A line of blood fell past her eyes, splattering onto the stone below her, and it was then that she realized he had cut her forehead.

"Don't ever mistake us as friends again," he bit out, turning without a second glance. The compassionate, real side of Draco's mind fought to get out and rush back to her, to fall at her side and make sure she would be alright and comfort her, but he could do nothing as his body turned away, leaving her on the stone floor.

Hermione for her part did not try to stand until long after Draco's footfalls were gone. There was a small puddle of blood beneath her face by that time, but she did nothing to clean the mess as she pushed off her hands and knees to sit on her bottom, eyes large.

_What the fuck was that? Why was he so physical, so mad?_

Deciding it would probably be best to not linger in the corridor in her condition, she scrambled to grab her things. Her head hurt- it was bloody horrible actually- but she paid it no mind as she retrieved all of her things into her hands and stood. Everything was slightly blurry as she headed off, but knowing that she couldn't quite go to the hospital wing and explain what had happened until she understood it herself, she was careful to head up the stairs towards her room.

It felt like he had stabbed her. All those sweet remarks of his had been fake, or so it would seem. She had practically felt his love radiating off of him at times; it was so strong. And she had seen his feelings in action more than once in her past lives. It couldn't be fake, but something was different now; horribly, horribly different.

She arrived soon after to her room, ignoring the concerned look her picture gave her as she entered. She hardly cared that she had missed classes all day, probably worried her friends and stood someone up after he kissed her. There was only one person she could really focus on right now; Malfoy.

Suppressing emotion until she was healed, she hastily fixed the cut in her forehead, taking a sip of a potion she kept handy in case something happened and had the gash gone in but a few minutes. It was only after she was fixed and knew that she was in the safety of her room that a choked sob escaped her mouth.

What was wrong with him? What changed? He had never been so hard, so cruel to her even before he got his memory back. What in Merlin's name could have made him go from caring to hostile so very quickly?

A second sob escaped her lips. She had rushed back to the school to see him, and he had practically beaten her up. She was foolish to believe that he wouldn't hurt her; look where it got her. She wrapped her arms around herself as she lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Absolutely foolish.

_But he was with Snape before this, right? Their conversation seemed odd; the short bit I actually bothered to listen to. Perhaps he did something…_

_I hope he did something. I hope Malfoy's true colors aren't beginning to show through. If they are, then I would rather not remember anything at all. _

She blinked back another waterfall of emotion. He was different tonight, but the questioned remained as to why. If it had something to do with Snape, then it could be dangerous for her to go question the greasy-haired old man. But she didn't have much of a choice really; if this was Snape's doing then it would have to be undone. Malfoy wasn't cruel; he had never come across as abusive. Something was certainly wrong here.

_He still hurt you._

Sighing, she rolled over and buried her face into the pillow. This was not how tonight was supposed to turn out. She could only hope that tomorrow, she could sort things out.

* * *

Draco wanted to kill himself. He hated what had happened, but as he stood in the shower he found he could not break out of the curse. He could do nothing but fight with his own mind for dominance. He should've known Snape was up to something.

Hermione kept flashing through his mind as his body bathed against his will. Her large eyes, those looks of fear that passed over her face when she realized something was different about him. But mostly, it was the sounds that were getting to him.

Like the sound of her head hitting the pole behind her when his body shoved her against it a second time. That sickening thud that kept echoing in his mind. He would never forget that nose, and that it had been done by his own body was almost too much.

Worst of all, was the blood. He could see through his eyes at least, see the red liquid dripping from the cut he had inflicted on her forehead when the uneven stone of the pillar cut her.

She had bled because he couldn't control himself, and he was sure she was terrified of him now.

_What have you let happen you bastard?_

* * *

The man sat at this desk, twirling his wand back and forth on the wood. A dark smirk covered his face, his eyes dancing with dark joy.

Draco was foolish. He should've known that there was something unusual going on from the moment their conversation began. Snape was a man who let little become revealed about his motives, so when he began questioning the blonde about his time with Hermione, Draco should've become more alert. But no, the boy was foolish and let his guard down for a moment, and that had been his undoing.

Snape could only imagine what befell poor Hermione when he found her. Now that their trust was severed, it would be far easier for him to begin wreaking his revenge. Draco had after all caused him a lot of trouble when he was Alabaster; now it was time to pay.

And what better form of torment was there then through love? They were getting closer, everyone could see that- whether they accepted the idea or not- and that made them vulnerable. A relationship had never really been there between them before, and although Snape knew nothing of the events that actually kept those two together throughout time, he knew it was something tragic. Although, it didn't really matter to him. So long as he could use their growing emotions to his advantage he didn't care.

So step one; crush their trust and sever their communication. Step two; get her alone. He would make Draco Malfoy know what it was like to suffer.

And to this, he smirked again. Really, the blonde should've known how to throw off the Imperio curse better. Now he was under Snape's control, and there was no telling what he would do with that sort of power.

_I guess we will just have to see. Their relationship is going to self-destruct before it can begin. I'll make sure of it. And when the link between them is broken because she can no longer trust him, it will be the end of her. _

**Part 2: Suffering in Misery, 1863 (Life Five)**

**Rafe Dax Malfoy and Hannalore Marie Hollingberry**

Six year old Liam sat in his mother's arms. His father was out again, and had left after another angry stint. The child understood very little about why his father was so mean, only that his mother feared him. And Liam did not want his mother to fear anything; certainly not her husband. He was glad that the man was gone at the present, off again in search of more to drink. Father always drank.

He assumed father had left because Aunt Indigo was present. Whenever mother's family came over the man made himself scarce. Aunt Indigo was older than his mother he knew, but she did not look like it. He thought they looked the same age, however old that was. But today, the women both seemed very on edge, and they kept speaking in hushed tones when they thought he was too distracted by the new book daddy had given him.

At some point during their whispers, Aunt Indigo turned to him. "Liam, will thou fetch me my coat? I shall be going soon."

Hannalore's son was all too eager to reply. With a father that rarely paid him any mind, it was not often that he was asked to do anything or paid attention to by really anyone but his mother. Sometimes his mom would start talking to herself, and she would mention a man he had never met; someone named Rafe. When she did this, she seemed sad, but somehow happy as well. He enjoyed those moments when she looked happy. Leaving the two women alone, he was quick to find his aunt's sweater, ignoring the fact that they had servants who could retrieve it for her.

He was slower when he returned. The two adults were still speaking and he did not want to interrupt. When he did that when father was around the man would quickly become angry. Aunt Indigo was not an angry person, but he did not want to chance anything. With his quiet footsteps, he was able to hear more, and that was how he caught onto their conversation.

"Leave," his aunt was saying, her voice sounding very tight. "He shall not return for many hours. He treats thou awful; I can see it in thou face. Comest stay with mine husband and myself, and we shall keep thee and Liam safe. Dost not put thyself through this anymore."

"Liam needs a father," his mother argued, and he slowly went to press himself into the wall to stay out of sight. She would be upset if she discovered he was eavesdropping. "I shall tolerate this life for him."

"Liam needs a home, not a cell! Thou must see this! It will do no good to remain here; comest with me. I shall have my husband protect thee. Our brother will help. Griffen hates this man as well."

"It dost not matter. Liam needs a father, and I shall provide one. I have but my own friends to ensure that we will remain alright."

"Thou should have married a man who would treat thou as is expected, not degrade. Thou made a poor choice in men." A chair slid back, indicating that his aunt was standing. Deciding that it would be bad to wait any longer, Liam made his presence known.

The rest happened quickly. Aunt Indigo left in the same carriage she arrived in, sparing few words. Liam watched his mother carefully, hoping she would not sound so sad again. He always hated when she did.

It was after Aunt Indigo had been seen off that Hannalore finally turned to her son and fell to her knees, pulling him into a tight hug. Surprised, the child hugged her in return.

"Oh Liam, I never wished for thou life to be so hard."

**Part 3: Conversations, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

The following day Hermione was quiet. She did not have potions class, but still became partners with Malfoy in a number of classes. He was cold, often not speaking with her at all. When she had passed him a note in their second class, he promptly burned it, letting the hot paper fall back on her wrist. She had jerked away, glaring at him through hurt eyes. She couldn't very well bring up the topic of his sudden mood change in class unless they used a note, and since he chose to deny that option he was only going to make it harder. She wished he wouldn't be so strange.

If she had the ability, she would use magic to drag him into an empty classroom sometime during the day, but that could look a lot more suspicious than just leading him someplace. They always had their Head duties to cover that with, but magic would make it look strange indeed. If she was physically strong, she would move him herself, but that wasn't an option either. She would just have to wait at this point.

But waiting was hard. She was on edge all day trying to figure out what was wrong. She had a few ideas, but none of which she wanted to focus on. They were all horrible, and would cause even bigger problems before things could be solved.

And she had a feeling this all evolved around Snape. The question was what he did and how she could fix it. But she wanted to speak with him still, even if Malfoy wouldn't be around to help. She would face him though, if it meant figuring out what had happened. Everything had been about to look up between her and the blonde, and it was all ruined now that his attitude was different. But despite everything, she could not believe it was him. It was too cold of a front to be his true colors after all the changes the war had brought on. There just had to be an outside influence, and she was determined to figure it out.

During dinner that night, she studied the teacher's table carefully. When Snape made to leave, she was quick to excuse herself. Her friends thought nothing of it, and even Ginny was content to think that everything was alright since Malfoy remained still in his seat, speaking with some of his Slytherin friends. But despite this, grey eyes could not help following the brunette out the door.

Draco yearned to follow. He was no fool, and his eyes were constantly scanning the room. The dominant part of his mind had no problem stepping aside to let him watch over her, seeing as there was no demand to keep her from doing so. But seeing Hermione leave when he did caused his heart to speed up. She was a smart girl and had to be piecing things together. But he did not want her alone with him; they still didn't know his complete intensions, and that in itself was terrifying. He wanted to jump up and make sure she wasn't alone, but he could do nothing. The spell had a hold on him, one he still had trouble fighting off. If only he could.

He needed to be there to watch her. After yesterday he could hardly tolerate himself, but he still didn't want to know that someone else had hurt her again. But she was out of sight, and all he could do was inwardly panic about what was going to happen, while the corrupted half of his mind held another animated conversation with Pansy.

* * *

"Professor Snape," Hermione called, hurrying to catch up to the Professor. He seemed to be heading in the direction of his classroom, but stopped long enough for her to catch up.

"Is there something I can help you with Miss Granger?"

She paused. Well, of course she had something he could _tell_ her about, but to jump right into the topic would be foolish. Actually, being alone with him would be foolish as well. Thinking on her feet, she spat out a lie, "I actually have been reading up on some very complicated potions in the library these past few days. I was hoping that since classes are over for the day that you would accompany me up there to have a look at them." _In a nice, open space with a nearby librarian and plenty of Ravenclaws. _

Snape raised an eyebrow, giving her a look that made her think he could perhaps see through her entire lie. She certainly hoped not. "And what kinds of potions are these?"

"The rare kind," she replied, keeping her responses spaced. She could pull a book of potions out of the library with ease, but she needed to get him to follow her upstairs. The space would be private enough to pry at his mind and see if he would give anything away, but open enough to allow her an easy escape if he became more than she could handle. After all, she wasn't sure what to expect, and especially not if he had his memory back. She could really use Draco right about now.

Her answer was evasive in his opinion, but he refrained from saying anything about it. She wanted to talk, and so did he. It would be best to mess with her mind as he waited for the opportune moment to wreak his revenge. "Please make this quick Miss Granger, I do not have all night."

Pleased that he was at least going to go along with her idea, she nodded quickly. Without saying a word she turned and started in the general direction of the library, prepared for the long walk, all the while fully conscious that she was putting herself in a dangerous situation by having him behind her. And Snape seemed to sense her unease. He came to walk at her side, and she wasn't sure if this was better or worse.

_Don't overthink this. Overthinking kept you from accepting Malfoy to begin with. And now something horrible has happened to build up an obstacle between us. I just have to make sure I can get to the bottom of this before something else happens._

She ran her fingers over her wand, hidden in an easily accessible pocket of her cloak. She wanted it close, just in case.


	22. Hermione's Realization

**A/n: **So I'm sick today, but I wanted to get an update out to you amazing readers. Hope you enjoy. Regarding the last chapter, there is a reason things took that sudden turn. For you see, this story is drawing to an end. I guess there are less than ten chapters left, more than five. So somewhere between there. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as well. Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Part 1: Games, 1642 (Life Three)**

**Omar Julian Malfoy (13) and Annalisa Coralie (12)**

He offered her his arm, and she took it gratefully, smiling at him as he led her into his father's study nearby, where the doors could be left open but offer the children some privacy to talk. "How was meeting thou brother's bride?" he asked as they walked. To say that the boy was ecstatic that the girl had come to the boring party hosted for his sister was an understatement. Seeing the girl he secretly had a crush on was the best thing that had happened the entire night. Now so long as her brothers did not find them, he would be all right.

Annalisa frowned and rolled her eyes. "A bore. She is nothing but a stuck up girl," she replied, brushing a stray hair from her face.

Omar chuckled. "They all are darling."

Surprised by his comment, she looked up at him. "Yes, they are," she replied with a smile. She took a seat on the loveseat in the room, Omar sitting at her side. "I suppose thou understand where I comst from, since thou has but been a guest to another arranged marriage party all night."

He nodded grimly. "Yes. Mine sister receives such a party at nine but I dost not at thirteen? It is quite unusual."

"Indeed," the girl agreed, nodding. "Mine parents sought a long time to find a bride for mine brothers, all of who are ready to marry when the age is right. Briar is marrying first, in but a few months. Bela has his bride picked but I have yet to meet her, and I met Azrael's hours ago. She was kind I suppose." With three older brothers, Annalisa often found it to be quite a task to get away and see her friends who were not female- like Omar. The three were protective, all being several years older than her. Briar was but nineteen and marrying soon, with Bela just behind him at eighteen and Azrael the youngest of the three at sixteen, leaving a four year gap between him and Annalisa. It was no surprise that they watched her closely.

The blonde nodded to show that he understood. Emma was being sent off to marry this strange man that Omar himself disliked. Perhaps it was common brotherly instinct, but he was nearly certain that all men in that situation felt the same; you often seek to protect those you love.

"Emma is very young to have her marriage arranged," he says, looking around the room. "Too young for thy."

Annalisa nodded her agreement. "She is but too young. I wonder why they overlook thee when thou sister is so much younger. Dost not they expect thee to wed?"

"I dost not know," he replied, sighing. "I never understand mine parents anymore."

"We never do to begin with." At that he smiled, looking over to find that she shared the same facial expression. It was good to see.

"Anna," someone called, drawing them out of their quiet land. The girl looked up, knowing that voice anywhere.

"That is Briar," she said quietly, glancing at Omar who only gave her a sad smile. "I wish we could speak longer."

"As do I."

"Anna," Briar called again.

She smiled softly at Omar, before leaning over to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. Surprise was an understatement for how he suddenly felt. She pulled back, smiling once more. "I thank thee for the talk," she said, before getting off the sofa. She hurried out, not sparing him a backwards glance.

For his part, Omar collapsed back against the sofa himself. That was a very strange girl who really knew how to get to his young head.

**Part 2: I Don't Understand, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

Hermione was thankful that she had decided to use the library instead of Snape's classroom. There were many students around, which meant that Snape could do nothing to her. She left him at a table in order to pick a few miscellaneous books to bring back to the table.

_How do I go about this?_

Speaking with Snape was a fine idea if she knew what she wanted to say. Blatantly asking if he had cast a spell on Draco would make things tense and possibly dangerous, something she could not afford. But, she couldn't ignore the situation either.

Returning to the table she had left Snape at, she dropped the books carelessly onto the wood, nearly causing one to fall to the floor. Any other time she probably would've felt bad, but today she would not spend the time to.

"Now what is it you want Miss Granger," the Professor asked, taking the first book off the tall stack. When he realized that the book focused on remedial potions, his eyes slid back up to meet hers. "This has nothing to do with potions at all, does it?"

"Took you long enough to realize that," she replied, crossing her arms.

He sat back in his chair, studying her. "Well, considering your high IQ I assumed you would never need my help. You should aim to create better lies Miss Granger. Now, why did you really want to speak with me?"

She pursed her lips. Now she had to be careful where she treaded, for today she did not have Malfoy to confide in if something went wrong. In fact if she messed up then he could be stuck a complete bastard forever. She just needed to choose the right questions.

"Malfoy has been acting strange lately," she began, twisting her hands together beneath the table. "Quite strange actually. As his Head of House I thought you should be alerted."

"Strange how," Snape asked, and for a moment she thought she saw something pass over his eyes, but whatever underlying emotion he was withholding disappeared too quickly for her to be sure.

Hermione shrugged. "You mentioned the other day when you asked to speak with me in your classroom that I have been spending quite a lot of time with him, and how you have seen him leaving my room in the early morning."

"I never said I have personally seen him leaving in the morning with- or without- you, only that people have."

"But you are not one to follow school gossip Professor, and that would be the only way for you to know for sure unless you really have been watching us." She suppressed the urge to shudder at the thought.

He narrowed his eyes. "What exactly are you getting at Miss Granger? What answers do you seek from me?"

She leaned forward a bit, clutching her hands in her lap. He leaned in as well, as though they were friends sharing a secret instead of people with different intentions. "You asked me who I think you are the last time we spoke, yes."

"Perhaps I did."

"Well Professor, I think you are the reason Malfoy is acting so strange."

There it was again, that flash of unknown emotion glinting across his eyes. She wondered if she was perhaps overstepping herself, but she didn't care. He was now going to have to come up with some clever responses.

"Why do you think that Miss Granger?" He looked just as relaxed as before, and leaned away to fold his hands in front of him on the table. It was unnerving to see how little his composure changed, even at her accusation.

"Because you seem to be at the end of all of my unanswered questions."

"And what are those questions?"

She smiled. "If I told you, you would only seek to deny them. Draco's sudden change in behavior cannot be normal, so there has to be some sort of unnatural reason why he is suddenly very different. I only assume that you are the reason due to the odd behavior you have exhibited recently."

"I assure you Miss Granger; I would never do anything to harm one of my students."

_But would Alabaster? _"Perhaps," she said, moving her body away from the table. "Your mouth might say that you have nothing to do with this, but your body says otherwise. Innocent people don't shake out of fear."

"I am not shaking," he growled, pushing out of his chair to stand. Someone told him to be quiet, and Hermione assumed it was the librarian herself.

"Now you are not, because you are aware that I was watching your body language." She stood as well. "Thank you for your time Professor," she continued evenly, smiling as his face screwed up into an unpleasant frown, "It has been most helpful."

"I didn't tell you anything."

"You didn't have to; your reactions speak for themselves. I will see you tomorrow in class." Before he could reply, she had snatched up her bag and was hurrying out of the library, ignoring the librarian's instructions to not run. She heard no one following.

_Well, if he didn't like me before he certainly doesn't now. I wish I could've gotten more out of him, but he was getting angrier and I couldn't afford letting anything get out of hand. Too many people around to witness it. Then again, that is why I chose the library in the first place._

She stopped jogging when she rounded the first corner outside of the library. Pausing to lean against the wall, she sighed. Now he knew she knew more than she let on, but to what extent would remain a mystery. He might be a bit more precautious now if he thought she was onto him, but one never knew. She could've just made him angrier.

_But he was shaking- whether out of fear or anger I know not. Snape is famous for being emotionless, and he would not have reacted in such a way unless he is guilty. He did something to Malfoy, but what?_

Hermione paused to think about that. If Snape had cast a spell on Draco, there was no telling what he would've done. It could be a mild spell that was taught to first years or as dangerous as the Imperius Curse. She shuddered to think what measures would need to be taken to break her blonde counterpart away from Snape's clutches if that Unforgivable spell had indeed been used.

_You're never going to figure anything out_ _by standing here. Go find Malfoy and see if you can get to the bottom of this. Better to deal with him than Snape anyways._

* * *

It didn't take long to locate Malfoy. She had decided to start looking by his room and spread out from there. On her way to her destination, she spotted the blonde heading in her direction. She checked to make sure her wand was easily reachable for the second time that day.

When he finally noticed her, they had started to draw quite close. Those calm green eyes immediately turned to steel and his relaxed composure gave way to a tightened body, braced for a duel.

_Well that won't make things any easier._

"Draco," she said, when they stopped a few feet from each other. Although it was the second time in a row that she had used his true name, she was still blind to the mistake.

"What do you want," he hissed, drawing his wand. She was quick to do the same. "And don't ever use my name; it does not belong on your tongue."

She sighed. "Draco, what's wrong with you? You are acting so strange-"

"Maybe I have just come to my senses that associating myself with Mudblood's like you is bad for my health." Inwardly, the blonde was screaming. He did not wish to be saying those things to her, but was helpless to stop. The controlled part of his mind had the power, and was going to say the meanest things possible to her.

"If that was true you would never have kissed me! And you certainly would never have sought to make me remember our pasts together! If you must be cruel, at least say something I can believe."

"That was the truth," he snapped, steeling his grip on the wand. She watched his body language closely, how he was shifting back as though he planned to hex her in a moment. His green eyes-

_Green? Malfoy's eyes are grey, never green. _Studying him once more, she let her eyebrows shoot up. The green was just barely there, cloaked around his usual eyes instead of dominating them. _Great, just as I feared… Snape used the Imperius Curse on him. Now what am I going to do- kill my Professor?_

Hermione was well informed about each of the Unforgivables. The Imperius Curse could only be broken if the caster released the victim or was killed. She doubted Snape would let Draco go easily, and killing the man seemed like an incredibly severe step. The only other option was for the victim to break through the wall keeping them back and throw off the curse, something she had seen Harry practice before. It was possible, but it would take an incredible amount of willpower and strength.

_And Malfoy would have to have more of a reason to break through. If the green hue has not developed throughout all of his eyes then that means he has to be fighting in. But if he has been unsuccessful to break the spell yet, then what will make him push through?_

"I don't think it was," Hermione breathed, walking to the right. He did as well, and they began to circle each other. She just hoped no one came along and found the Head Boy/Girl dueling in the corridor. That would be hard to explain. "The truth is what you feel inside, not what you front to keep yourself safe from judgments. I think you are lying because someone wants you to, not because you hate me."

"You don't know if that's the truth," he growled, eyes watching her every move. For a moment she thought she saw a look of uncertainty.

"This isn't you Draco; you're not the bastard I've known for seven years- for six centuries. You're different in my eyes now that I know what has happened between us in the past, and I know that inside you can't hate me. You've been cursed," she said, holding up a hand gently as though to calm him, "And the curse is making you act so strange. You have to fight it."

Inwardly, the blonde wanted to scream at her. Yes, he already knew what had happened and what needed to be done, but he had never been successful at fighting off the Imperius Curse. All those trial runs with Voldemort during the war had done little to build his tolerance. Try as he may, fighting this spell was a difficult process, on which he was losing. He only hoped that he did nothing horrible to her during this encounter like the other day.

When he didn't respond, she took a few steps closer. If she could only understand the internal battle going on, perhaps she would mind her distance a bit more. She had never been placed under the Imperius Curse, so she did not fully understand the sheer amount of force and willpower it _really _took to break free from. She should be more mindful that the spell wasn't broken yet, but concern for the blonde trapped under the curse drove her to walk closer. She was certainly risking her own safety by getting so very near him in this state of mind.

"Draco-" She began, but was cut short a moment later. Those angry tinted eyes flashed, and she was thrown back onto the floor in seconds. She missed what spell he muttered, but it did kick her senses into overdrive.

She had her wand aimed at him in a moment, but it did nothing to protect her as his weight came crashing down on top of her. He gripped the arm holding her wand, before snatching the thin piece of wood from her hands and throwing it across the floor. Afraid of what his affected mind would do, she ripped his own out of his hand as well and threw it before he could retrieve it. Now they could only fight through sheer physical strength, which put her at a disadvantage. He had her arms pinned in a moment.

"See," she gasped when he stopped his fidgeting for a moment, "This isn't really you. Whatever Snape told you to do has twisted your mind into thinking you want to hurt me. But is that what you really desire? If you harm me I am not entirely sure what it will do to you mentally. Stop letting magic dictate what you think. It's just a spell that's making you do things you normally wouldn't."

_I hope I'm right about this. _

Draco watched through the mirror his eyes provided as Hermione spoke to him. He hated to see himself hurting her so, but the spell was strong. She wanted him to fight it, and to that he almost wanted to smile. She had figured out what was going on very quickly.

Now if he could only break away from it.

The next moment happened in a blur, with Draco having been preoccupied by other thoughts. His hand came up against his will and stuck her across the cheek once, twice, a third time before he pulled back, watching her gasp in shock. He couldn't believe he was letting this happen, letting his body hit hers in such a way. But mostly, he couldn't believe that he let it escalate so far.

She gasped. It didn't hurt as much as it could've, but the fact that he was hitting her put her in more shock than anything. He should be able to see what was happening at the very least, but now she had her doubts if this was happening. Maybe the spell was beating him, and she simply wanted to believe that he could fight it.

A strong hand locked around her jaw, forcing her to look back up at him. She closed her eyes, hoping to get the terrible image of Draco leering over her out of her mind.

"Look at me," he hissed, shaking her head once. When she refused, he raised her head up and slammed it back into the ground. "Look at me!" Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. "There's a good girl. Do you still think this really isn't me Granger? Do you still think I am incapable of harming you?" He leaned closer. "Do you?"

She only sighed. "It's still not you," she whispered, before bringing her free leg up to knee him between his own. Surprised, he groaned and rolled off of her, pain rocketing through his body because of her. She scrambled off the ground, snatching up her wand before hurrying over to fetch his as well. It was only then that she turned back to him.

He was glaring at her, those tinted eyes livid. He watched her every movement from his place on the floor, as though studying her. She came to pause beside his head, just far enough out of his reach that if he made to grab her she would have enough response time to jump out of the way.

"It's still not you Malfoy," she whispered, gripping his wand tightly. "Don't let a spell take over your mind. If you have fought for six centuries to get me don't let something as trivial as this stop you from succeeding. You just have to fight it." Before he could respond, she turned away and hurried down the corridor, putting space between them. She did not want him to have the upper hand again. At the end of the corridor she dropped his wand for him to pick up later, ignoring the burning in her cheeks.

_I hope the message got through to you Malfoy; I hope you fight. Killing Snape without even understanding everything he is after is not something I want to do. You have to fight the spell now._

* * *

Back in the corridor, Draco remained on the ground, staring at the ceiling. His mind was having a battle with itself, the real side of him disturbed that the cursed half of him would dare hit her. He would've expected her to be angrier than she was, but all that had shown through those brown eyes of her was pain- but whether it was physical or emotional pain, he wasn't sure.

He just couldn't stand seeing that expression on her face, nor could he tolerate knowing he was the reason she looked upset. All the things she had been saying had gotten through to him, even if it didn't seem like it. All he had to do now was break the curse and get past it. The problem was, he wasn't sure he was strong enough to do that.

_I'll have to break it somehow. I can't let this happen again._

**Part 3: Life, 1749, (Life Four)**

**Damian P`ere Malfoy (16) and Rivkah Tabitha Clayworth (19)**

The wedding was a beautiful affair if nothing else. Despite the anger he felt at her for marrying that man, he could not deny that both families had gone all out to make the wedding memorable. He just wished the bride had made the executive decision to leave early; this man would never be worthy of her.

He hated to think that she was wasting herself on the likes of him. She deserved someone who would treat her like a princess, not this man who only wanted someone to show off. Dennis Clayworth did not deserve her, but there was little Damian could do to stop the marriage. He did have his own wife and child on the way; stepping in and saying Rivkah could do better would sound strange indeed.

For Damian it was terrifying to think he would be a father at sixteen, and be expected to spawn more offspring in the coming years. So much pressure was being put on rich Pureblood families at this time that it was insane. Perhaps Rivkah would escape that pressure since she was a Halfblood marrying a Halfblood. The once Pure family lines on both sides of that marriage had been ruined by unions such as this. It made the blonde wonder how long that line would be considered Halfblood before they fell down into the ranks of Mudbloods. He hoped it did not happen for many moons, so that this woman was not subjected to the disrespect that came with having 'dirty' blood.

Once the wedding had ended his wife Gemma clung to his arm. He knew she worried about the affections he had for the bride, and couldn't blame her. He was after all in love with her. Gemma may not want to accept that- may not even want to think about it- but he feared that someday she would come to realize the truth and be heartbroken. And he truly did not want to hurt her.

Damian hugged his wife tightly as the newlyweds passed. He hoped he could learn to love his wife in the way that she deserved.

**Part 4: Wake Up, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

Had someone asked him, Draco was unsure he could give someone an accurate amount of time as to how long he lay there in the corridor fighting with himself. Parts of him just couldn't accept letting something like that happen again, while the rest of him was angry that he had let her get away.

But none of that mattered. He simply needed to break away from the spell and go find her, talk to her before she changed her mind about him. And he had no idea how long it took, but at some point the demonic side of his mind caved and Draco found himself in control of his own mind again. When he finally struggled into a sitting position, he realized it was dark.

_How long have I been here?_

It didn't matter though how long he had been sitting there fighting with the curse, for he had finally broken through it. However Hermione had known that wasn't the real him went beyond his comprehension- for he had been a right arse to her in the past- but he was glad she had at least believed he was better than that. He was glad that she thought he had more morals than that. But it still didn't really excuse the fact that he had hit her, which was something that had been replaying in his head since he began fighting with himself.

Now though, there seemed to be only one thing left to do. He would need to speak to her immediately, no matter the exhaustion he now felt. For some reason he felt that the spell wasn't as strong as it could've been, and that had his mind on edge. If Snape had left the spell diluted so he could break free, then what was the motive? There was something else to speak to her about when he went to find her- _if _she chose to speak to her.

Standing, he started off in the direction she had gone. It was headed away from his dorm which led him to believe that she had been returning to his. Reaching the corner he nearly slipped on something, and looked down to discover his wand. A headache was forming as he bent to pick it up.

_Leaving this here was dangerous. If I had decided to follow her before I got back complete control of my mind I could've hexed her, especially if she was still stuck on getting me to listen to her. She may have been right that it wasn't me, but she should've been more careful._

He continued on his way, head spinning. If nothing else he would tell her he was sorry before he passed out.

* * *

Several floors down, the potions master paced his classroom. Granger was prying at things, just as he had suspected. It was only a matter of time now before the curse was lifted.

_I knew she heard us that night in the corridor. _

Sitting at his desk, he twirled his wand lightly. The pieces were in place, and he felt comfortable now preparing his final attack. Oh yes, those two would understand the problems they had caused him. He would not let them get away with the misery they had caused him.

_If they only knew._


	23. Hermione, We Can Indeed

**A/n: **I think this chapter covers a lot and is quite interesting. For once you guys might actually like me at the end. And leave a review so I know what you thought! Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Part 1: Let Us Talk, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

His head was vibrating due to the headache forming. Never could Draco recall a time when his head had hurt so much, but he supposed that was an after effect of the Imperius Curse- or maybe simply from hitting his head on the ground while having an inner battle. Whatever the reason, he only knew that he needed to get up to Hermione's room and speak to her, and soon.

The good news was that he was almost there. The bad? He wasn't sure he would remain conscious much longer. His vision was spinning in and out, and he could feel the bile rising in his throat with each step he took. Forcing down the need to vomit, he trudged on. It would never do to lose everything he had eaten today outside of her room- then she would be concerned and not listen to him one bit.

Purposefully, he stopped outside her door, rapping on the wood twice. "Hermione! Hermione it's Draco, please open up! I need to speak to you!" He didn't care what he was saying, just so long as she heard him and came to the door he would tolerate whatever words were spilling from his lips. "Hermione!"

The door opened half a second later, and his first thought was that it was foolish of her to open the door wide when he could very well be under the Imperius Curse still, but there was no time to go into that right now.

"Malfoy- Draco? What are you doing up here?" she asked, studying him once. He looked a bit green and one of his hands was clutching at his head in a tight hold. She didn't quite understand- was he ill?

"I had to tell you… I had to tell you…"

She reached out and gripped both of his shoulders tightly. "Are you alright? Maybe you should come inside and rest. Then you can tell me what's on your mind-"

Her sentence was cut off as the blonde collapsed, nearly crushing her under his sheer body weight. She quickly grabbed her wand out of her pocket before they both toppled over and said a levitating charm, lifting the now unconscious boy off of her body. Not caring a bit if anyone was standing around watching now, she moved him into her room and shut the door, easing him onto the couch.

Stepping back, she studied him. He looked a bit ill, but he was acting different now. Less… vile. For one thing he wasn't bitching at her about her blood or how he was superior. That left her to only assume that something had changed. Hoping that maybe he was back to normal, she moved to the small kitchenette and wet a cloth, returning to sit by his side and place it on his forehead, her eyes watching him closely. Something was a bit different, and whatever had changed would hopefully be a good thing. Maybe the git was back to normal. But she would have to wait for him to wake up to see.

_Oh Draco, please be yourself again._

* * *

Draco awoke a short time later with a dull headache. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a room- Granger's room- spread out on the couch. The second was that he had a cool cloth on his forehead.

The third that he couldn't see her anywhere. With a groan, he sat up and rubbed his temples. Vague memories of coming to see her after breaking free from the curse rushed through his mind, but it was a bit blurry. He couldn't recall what he said, nor if he even saw her before he passed out. Cringing, he hoped he had; at least then he might've said something close to an apology.

"You're awake," a voice said, drawing his attention. Removing the wet cloth he looked over at the girl in question, noting that she was walking towards him with a tray. Thinking this was odd, he opened his mouth to question her just as she spoke again. "I thought some tea might be in order. Since you sought me out for once instead of the other way around, I'm hoping this means your back to your usual self- well, the side of you that I've grown to know anyway. You've been more like the old Malfoy for about a day." She set the tray on the table and came to sit at his side, watching him with those thoughtful eyes of hers.

"So I did say something to you then," he asked, watching her small hands reach out and pour tea into two cups. "Before I passed out? At least I'm gathering that's what happened since I woke up on your sofa in your dorm room." He made it a point to clearly state where they were, and she found it amusing how he seemed to be almost impressed that he was in there again. Was it a surprise?

"Yes, you passed out. You came up here babbling about needing to tell me something and then nearly crushed me when you lost consciousness. I levitated you in here- thank Merlin for magic! Otherwise I would've been dragging you inside and that would've been very unpleasant to wake up to later."

"Probably," he replied as she shoved a cup and saucer into his hand. "I don't understand why you have prepared tea though."

"You were obviously thirsty when you arrived, and probably still are. Whatever you were going to tell me about seems quite important, so I thought maybe if we were relaxed that this talk ahead of us would seem less intimidating." She watched as he took a sip, glad to see he wasn't shaking or anything. Good- that meant that he should be fine now. "So what was it you wanted to discuss with me?"

He sighed, setting the drink back down. "I wanted to say I'm sorry," he began, leaning back into the couch as he looked at her, "For being an arse. I hurt you. And I'm sorry I've been so unusual."

Her eyebrows rose a degree. "You're apologizing? I never thought I would see the day that a Malfoy was sorry for anything."

"Must you ruin the moment?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together. "Have you learned nothing from the time we spent together? I'm different now."

"Yes, so I've seen," she agreed, studying him. "But are you a good different now, or are you still ready to pin me to the wall for the wrong sort of sentence?"

The blonde groaned. "That wasn't me! I was under the influence of a curse!"

"I gathered that- actually it's something I've been hoping from the start." She reached over and grabbed his hand in an effort to reassure him that she didn't think he was bad, and he looked at her again with startled eyes. She was pursing her pretty, full lips again. "It was Snape, wasn't it? He put some sort of curse on you."

He couldn't hold back an undignified snort. "You can't tell me the brightest witch of our year is unable to figure out what time of curse it was. Come on now, you know the name."

It was silent for a moment. "The Imerpius?" He nodded, and she sighed. "I had a feeling it was something like that, but I didn't really want to believe it. I mean, Snape was a good guy not long ago! He fought on our side and he never used any of the Unforgivable Curses-"

"And I was a Death Eater," Malfoy cut in, holding her gave. He reached down to the sleeve of his shirt, pulling back the clean material to reveal the faded but obvious tattoo hidden beneath. Her eyes widened a degree; she had not thought about him having that tattoo in a long time.

"It was one of the stupidest choices I ever made- in all of my lives. But I used to be a bad guy, and Snape was good. Times have changed, so have the people we know. You can't assume anymore that just because he was good at one point that he still is, Hermione. That was your first flaw- you let past facts blind you from what the possible reality of the present is." He pushed the sleeve of his shirt back down again and looked away. "I was only under for a day you know."

"Two," she replied, looking up again at the back of his head. "The first night, and most of today. So two days."

"I only count that as one total. Whatever you say Granger," he replied, closing his eyes. "I'm still sorry that I was such an arse to you. I should've fought the curse harder."

Realization finally came to her; of course Snape hadn't lifted the curse so soon! He had actually broken through it all by himself. "I didn't realize you ever had time to practice escaping such a dark curse like that."

"I haven't. It was diluted, not as hard to fight as what I assume a real Imperio is. For whatever reason, I get the strangest feeling that he wanted me to be able to break free."

She frowned, scooting a hair closer to him. "Well that doesn't make sense; why would he curse you just so you could escape it in a day- _two_ day's time?"

Turning, he met her eyes. "That's the problem, isn't it? I don't know what the motive would be behind that."

"But you believe there is a motive?"

He shrugged. "Why else would I have gotten out so easily? If I was cursed to kill you it would've been a powerful spell, but there were no demands like that. Actually, I was told to do little at all."

Hermione frowned. "Well, what did he tell you to do then?"

The blonde closed his eyes and leaned his head back against her sofa once more, thinking back to that brief conversation with his godfather – former, actually. He would be damned if that man was a god-anything anymore to him.

_Again, he shrugged. "I could always ask you the same thing Mr. Malfoy."_

_Draco narrowed his eyes, studying the man closely. "And what exactly does that mean, Snape?" He suppressed a smirk as the elder man glowered at the name, informally spoken without the Professor in front. _

"_I am only saying that perhaps she is important to the both of us."_

_That put him on edge. "And how would she be important to you," he spat._

_Severus sneered. "Oh, you would be surprised."_

_He drew his wand. "I'll repeat myself. _How _is she important to you?"_

"_Touché," Snape replied, pulling out his own wand that he held in a slackened, lazy grip. "It's not so much that Miss Granger herself is important to me but what I can get from her is."_

"_Petrificus Totalus," the blonde practically screamed, but his godfather was prepared for the attack and reflected it quickly._

"_You take such a liking to her, as you have before. And that will be your downfall. You simply cannot fathom the idea of allowing harm to come to her ever again." Draco steeled his eyes and watched the man closely, waiting to see if he would attack. "But you see Mr. Malfoy, I need to make sure you understand that I am serious about getting back at the two of you. You made my life exceptionally hard before, and I will only return the favor. Imperio." _

_It happened quickly, and he had no time to respond to the man's words. Merlin's balls, he did somehow remember the past! But how? Draco had only seconds to ponder that before the violating spell pushed him to the back of his own mind, the new presence awaiting orders._

"_That's better," Severus said, smiling a crooked smile. "Now you will do as I say. It won't be too much listening on your part for too long, but we do need to make some things known dear boy. First and foremost, you will not speak to Hermione Granger in anything resembling a pleasant manner until you break free- stay away from her as best possible. And above all else, you will ignore her."_

"_Of course," his lips replied, although the semi alert part of his mind wanted to say otherwise._

_Snape suppressed a chuckle. "I don't know why you didn't listen to me from the beginning."_

"_Nor do I."_

"_Good, which means you will do as I said. Ignore her, hate her, until a time when you no longer listen to my words. Then everything will break lose, and you won't like the war coming. You won't like me in the end Draco, but for now you won't worry about me until further notice."_

"_Of course."_

"_You listen so well when you don't have a mind of your own. Now, I best be on my way. Go back to your dorm and sleep, and then resume your normal pattern tomorrow. Remember how I said to handle Miss Granger, and do not worry about her feelings."_

"_Yes sir."_

"_Good; you're dismissed boy."_

The blonde came out of his memory, hating that the conversation had ever grown foggy in his mind to begin with. He lunged forward and picked up the saucer and cup she had prepared for him and threw it at the wall, the teapot following suit. He stood and began pacing.

"I assume that means it was bad," she asked, crossing her arms on the couch. Her broken tea set was no concern at the moment.

"He told me to ignore you, to not speak to you kindly. He wanted me to be cruel." Malfoy was running his hands over his face. "He wanted me to be cruel and hate you, but why then did I break out so easily. I could subconsciously think about you and the part of my mind that was me knew that you were getting hurt." She didn't argue that point or say much of anything, and he continued right now. "He definitely remembers the past- he said something about making us pay."

"Snape was in our second life, right? He was that Alabaster bloke?"

"Yes," Draco replied, still walking in circles in the room. "Yes, he was the one that tried to force himself on you."

"I remember."

He was shaking his head. "I just don't understand why he is so angry. Things got around and we said a few things, but everything that happened was all due to what he originally did. He can't be mad at us for that!"

"Draco- you're rambling. What exactly are you getting at?"

Finally, he paused in his movements and glanced at her. "I'm saying he really shouldn't be angry at us for something he administered. If he hadn't been after you in the first place then what does he want now? We proved once before that it's not sex because he didn't attack you in the classroom."

She nodded her agreement. "And when I was in the library with him he did nothing that would make me think he wants sex either."

Draco paused entirely then, sitting down on the couch beside her. "I think I missed something; since when did you go to the library with Snape?"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "I wanted to see if he would drop any hints about what had happened to you. I heard you two talking in the hallway the first night you were under the Imperio curse and thought-"

"Wait- you went alone, when I wouldn't have even helped you? Hermione, if revenge is something he is looking for then going someplace by yourself with him is practically playing into his hands! What if he had done something?"

"In an open library with students and a librarian?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes!"

She pat his hand. "I was prepared to defend myself. Sometimes I think you forget Malfoy, but I fought in the war too. I know how to handle myself and all he did was talk a bit oddly."

He huffed, brushing her hand off so he could clasp it instead. Neither student thought this action was odd, but maybe that was just because they had grown to slowly become comfortable with each other- even if Hermione was the only one who needed any real adjustment. "I wish you wouldn't. It's still a bit unclear what he is playing at. Sure, he wants to get even, but for what? And more importantly, we need to know how. Neither of us should really be alone with him, just in case."

If nothing else, she was glad he said _neither of us_ instead of her specifically. "All right, fair enough. But then what are we going to do Draco?"

**Part 2: Sofia Madeline, 1538 (Life Two)**

**Dreu Antoine Malfoy (15) and Harmony Joan Potter (19)**

Harmony did not see Dreu again for a long time. Although her husband often journeyed with her past the man's ancestral home, she never told him to stop and go thank Dreu for what he had done the previous year. Alexander did not like to admit that his sweet had been assaulted, and was even more hesitant to admit that the person responsible was someone he preferred to trust. So she let the topic sink, although the events of that night sometimes woke her from her sleep. If Alexander did not wish to look at everything as closely as he did because his mind was intoxicated with the vile drink he so often consumed, then she did not wish to tell him her fears; they would be but wasted on careless ears.

It was in a cavern one day as she had a festive lunch with her beloved that she overheard the conversation that chilled her to the core. Alabaster Snape was quite a bit older than she was, yet he remained a bachelor until recently. Apparently in the previous months he had found himself a suitable bride and was marrying her soon. Harmony knew few and far details about the affair, but she could not stomach the unease in her stomach that whoever this unlucky soul was, she was about to marry someone dangerous. Little did Lady Potter know that she was eavesdropping on the future Lady Snape herself.

Getting up after excusing herself to the lady's room, Harmony passed the table she had been listening to earlier. The sole occupant was a woman who was very young, with dark ebony locks and a hat that masked her face. She passed without a thought to the girl until she spoke up.

"Thou are Lady Potter?" she asked, halting the raven haired girl in her tracks. She turned back.

"This is I. May I help thee?"

"Sit," the woman said, beckoning to the chair across from her. "My company has gone out for a smoke and shall not return for some time."

"I see," Harmony said cordially, sitting in the designated seat. Now she could see beneath the extravagant, tilted hat to the woman's face. She was a beauty, with full lips and vibrant green-gold eyes. "I am sorry, but I dost not know thou."

She nodded. "I am aware. My name ist Lady Sofia Madeline. I am but engaged to one Alabaster Snape."

Potter suppressed a cringe. So this was the unfortunate girl in the flesh? She finally understood the man's fetish with her; for Sofia had to be roughly nineteen as well, and Alabaster was nearly double that. She gave a strained smile. "I see."

"I have heard much about the rumors of my fiancé," she continued, sipping the tea before her. When she offered her guest some, Harmony declined politely. "I met a fine man a few days ago Lady Potter, a man of whom warned against my union with Alabaster, but he hast been nothing but good to me. He mentioned thou- only briefly- and I hoped that thou could shed light on my predicament. Is there but something I am missing from the life mine fiancé hast led?"

Harmony wished she had taken her up on the tea offer. Her throat felt dry as she listened to Sofia speak. If a male had told her about Alabaster's dark side, then that could only mean that Dreu had somehow met this woman and informed her in private of the misdeeds he had attempted to push on her just under a year ago. She certainly felt that this woman deserved to know who her husband truly was, but was it worth ruining a union? Marriage was a difficult thing to break, and unless she went forth and told her father of what she had learned and could make the man believe, the wedding would continue on even though she knew the truth. Was it worth it if she would be stuck with Alabaster anyway?

Sofia seemed almost timid to her, like she was afraid of an answer. Did she have her suspicions? Did she believe that he was not the kind man he came across as? Harmony was not sure, and chose to word her next sentence carefully.

"If thou wishes to know the truth of thy fiancé, then this place ist not right to discuss such matters. Thou must remember that knowledge ist sometimes more of a burden then ist worth. Think on thy question, and comst to mine home tonight if thou seeks the truth. Thou may not like it, and I have now warned thee. Do not be mad at me if thou comst, for thou will have chosen to know everything. I live up on the Southside of this town, and thou will know mine home once arriving there. It is thou decision, Lady Madeline." She nodded her head to the woman, who stared on at her with large eyes, as though searching to see if she could call her bluff on the matter being so serious. When Sofia said nothing else, Harmony bid her goodbyes. She was not certain she wished to see Lady Madeline at her home or not, and was still unsure if telling her the truth was a good idea.

_I could owl Dreu, but he told her once before. Ist will do no good to return to him for help. I shall have to go about this on mine own. Perhaps saving her from that man ist better than anything else._

* * *

Nightfall came and Harmony was sitting in the sitting room when one of the servants headed towards the door. She could hear the knocking as well and knew that this night it was not her husband- he lay upstairs passed out on his stomach, thoroughly drunk. She had commanded the maids leave him on the floor, since it was his own fault that he was there in the first place. No, she knew who came knocking, and she could feel the dread rising in her chest.

A maid came and looked at her, and Harmony wondered why the doorman was not addressing her. "Lady Madeline wishes to have an audience with thou."

* * *

"Thou said thee would tell me about mine fiancé," Sofia said, watching Harmony closely as she sipped her tea. The glass was nearly empty when she finally replaced it on the saucer.

"This I did," she commended, her eyes going to search something out behind the woman's head. She needed something else to focus on. "How old be thee?"

"Twenty," she said, confirming the suspicions Potter had before. Indeed, the girl was young, just like her.

"Thou husband will be nearly double that," Harmony replied, raising an eyebrow as she refocused her eyes and placed her hands in her lap. "He ist so much older."

"Mine father commended the marriage," she said lamely, touching her hair slightly. "He believes it shall help us much, since the Snape line is so very prestigious in society."

"The Snape line, yes. But Alabster Snape is another story dear. He ist known in these parts to have a dark side. Where are thou from?"

"York," she replied.

Harmony nodded once. "Then thou ist expected to know little of what thou fiancé hast been like before now. He ist being kinder to impress thee- thou must see this. He hides his true colors behind the image of generosity and love."

She almost looked offended by that. "Then please tell me about mine fiancé, for I canst not stay long."

"Like I said Lady Madeline, he hast a dark side." She delved into a tale of her worst encounter with Alabaster, from the moment Dreu left her alone until his return and the events following, even the man's apology letter. She spoke of the rumors whispered around town, knowing that this girl was captivated in horror the entire time.

"Thou expects me to believe," she asked when Harmony finished, "to believe mine husband ist a monster?"

"I explained that thou would not like the truth, and ist up to thee what ist done with this knowledge. Ignore it, tell thine father about it, or tell Alabaster. I only exist to inform in this situation."

The girl looked shaken and uncertain about what to do with her newfound information, but nodded her thanks all the same. As they said their goodbyes and she left, Harmony knew that what would happen next was anyone's game. She was not obligated to tell a soul, and whatever she chose to do would determine her union to Snape, as well as the man's possible fate- for who would defend him? He had attacked her after all, one of the most prestigious and loved woman in London. She could not predict what would unfold from their discussion.

"Who ist here," said a voice, drawing her from her thoughts. She glanced behind her to see her husband wandering towards her, the after effects of his drinking evident. She turned back and watched the carriage disappear into the night through a window.

"A friend," she commended, unsure what to do next as she waited for events to unfold.

**Part 3: Remains of a Letter, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

"Are you sure this is going to work," she asked hesitantly, looking at the blonde from her place across the room. They had been talking for nearly an hour and had finally come to a difficult decision.

"Well, it's the best idea I have to get alone with Snape," he said, crossing his arms. "There's no way you are getting anywhere alone with him, since we don't know what he is after."

She rolled her eyes. "Very well, oh protective one. And what exactly do you plan to ask him?"

"A great many things."

They had formulated a plan that both students hoped would work. As far as they knew, they were the only two who knew that he was no longer under the Imperio curse. She didn't believe for a moment that Snape was aware, meaning that they had leverage now. If Draco continued to act like he was under the curse during the day, then perhaps he could wait after class one day to speak to Snape and switch things around. It was a long shot, but it was a plan. Things were moving so slowly right now that they had grown impatient, and this was the next best form of action besides storming the potions class during lunch and demanding answers. That had been Draco's initial idea, which she had quickly shot down as being both dangerous and stupid because it would possibly draw attention from other students and staff, and this was really a situation none of them could or would explain. It might be more effective, but for now it had been crossed off the list.

"We have potions first thing in the morning," she said, taking a seat again.

"I know, and I have to be a bastard to you all bloody day. Do you think Potter and Weasel will have a fit again?"

She smiled slightly, thinking of her two best friends. "Actually, it might be better. They have been asking me about your new interactions, and this will steer them clear of any ideas of us being together, at least for now."

He caught the last part, and dropped the hard exterior. "What do you mean, for now?"

She looked away, the remains of Viktor's last letter to her sitting on the table. He had not owled since she kissed him and then ran away, though she couldn't blame him. Reaching out, she picked up the envelope again. "You know I didn't stay, don't you?"

Draco frowned. "What are you talking about," he asked, walking to sit beside her. "Krum? Must we talk about him now?"

She tilted her head slightly. "Why do you hate him so much- Viktor, not Henry. He doesn't even remember the past."

"Any Krum will always be an obstacle to me so long as he is infatuated with you," the blonde replied, no hesitation evident in his voice. It wasn't rushed, but the statement felt very real. Hermione smiled, reminded why she had run away from the bloke to begin with.

"I realized something when I went to see him," she said, watching Draco closely- and he watched her in return. "I realized I don't care for him at all."

"Shouldn't you have realized that before-"

"Will you be quiet so I may speak? I realized I don't feel anything for him because I am slowly falling for someone else." His eyebrows drew together, his mind not allowing him to think ahead at all about what she was saying. He needed her to say it aloud. "I realized, I really was beginning to fall for you, all your mind fucking memories and all."

He smirked at that. "They are a bit of a mind fuck, aren't they?" She nodded, and he reached out to stroke her cheek. "I've waited centuries to hear you say that again, you know?"

"I didn't say I love you Malfoy, I haven't even had a relationship with you in this life-"

"And I didn't say you loved me either," he agreed, cutting her off. "But you feel something, you're falling for me, and that means more to me than anything."

She smiled lightly again, noting how uplifted he looked. Since she started uttering this nonsense he had started to glow, like huge weights were slowly coming off of his back. She reached up and placed her hand over his own, which still rested on her face.

"So, amidst everything else we are going to embark on, perhaps we can try for a relationship as well," she breathed, studying his eyes slowly; they were gleaming. This was the first chance she had really had to bring this up, and if she had been able to bring it up before she got the feeling that they would be a lot further along in figuring out what Snape was up to; seeing them together was likely to fuel his anger more than anything.

And then he did something she had not been prepared for. He leaned forwards and brushed his lips softly across hers, the pressure only lasting for a moment; it was so different from the first time they kissed in the corridor, when they were demanding and full of need. This was different, and as he leaned away she smiled lightly. It wasn't an over powerful kiss that made her wonder about how quickly he wanted her to love it; it had a burst of passion that was underlined with an exceptionally powerful will to wait. After all, he had waited for six hundred years to even get close to her again.

"Indeed, we can, Hermione."


	24. Hermione's Absence

**A/n: **Yup, I've been gone for a while. I'm actually surprised I had time to get this chapter typed and up, but I did. I have no idea when the next chapter will be up, because I have so much to catch up on before finals and I have a second job over the Christmas Holiday, so yuck. I will try though lovelies, so please keep reading and reviewing! I know it's been about two weeks- no dear readers, I looked and it has not been a month- but this isn't going to be abandoned. It will just be a bit slow for a while, unfortunately. Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Part 1: Broken Marriage 1538 (Life Two)**

**Dreu Antoine Malfoy (15) and Harmony Joan Potter (19)**

Dreu watched the couple from his seat. Sofia Madeline had not caught his interest thus far, but a startling letter from one Harmony Potter caused him to look the girl over again. He had been unaware until he received the letter that this fair beauty was betrothed to the same man he pulled off of Harmony ages ago. Knowing that this woman, the very essence of purity and innocence, was bound to an older man of Snape's character was startling. All he understood from the brief note was that he was not to send a response- for her drunken husband would have a fit if he saw one- but instead to go and watch the couple today at this fine establishment. Sipping his drink he watched them chat idly.

Since arriving in London Dreu had seen this woman a few times. She always seemed carefree, lighthearted and, well, alive. Today she was quiet, staring down at the food before her. Her company obviously paid no mind to how she felt, as Alabaster continued to chat loudly with her as well as a friend of his. The poor girl looked a bit shaken, but now Malfoy wondered if he was the only one there who noticed the odd behavior. The place was full but no one- not even Alabasters' friend- seemed to care a bit about the uncomfortable girl. When the pair finally stood to go outside and have a smoke he saw the only opportunity to go and speak with the young woman. Downing his drink, he walked over to her.

"May I sit with thou?" he asked cordially, catching the girl off guard. She looked up at him with a startled expression for a moment, before leaning in a bit further to study his appearance.

"Thou ist Lord Malfoy?" she asked, beckoning to the vacated seats. He took one opposite her, leaving an appropriate amount of space between them.

"No, I am but his son, Dreu. It shall be many moons before I am the Lord of Malfoy Manor."

Sofia nodded, studying him. "Thou are called Dreu then?"

"Yes."

"Harmony told me about thou," she commented, stirring her food mindlessly around her plate. Her eyes looked up to meet his after a moment. "She said thou saved her from Alabaster, mine betrothed."

He nodded once, surprised by the girl's forwardness. When he first saw her in this establishment and thought about everything Harmony had owled him, he expected Sofia's worried look to translate into her words. Rather, it seemed that she was more anxious to get their conversation moving- and so was he. After the last encounter with Alabaster, Dreu believed it would not go over well if he was found in the company of Snape's future wife.

"This ist true," he agreed, nodding quickly. "We both know that I shant not stay here long, lest thou betrothed return."

Sofia nodded once. "I must speak with thee."

"How?" the blonde asked. "Thou shall not comst if it will look bad to thy fiancé." He pursed his lips. "Declare thou ist coming to speak to mine wife tonight, and we shall speak but briefly."

"Lie," she asked, leaning forward. "I ask to only to know one thing Mr. Malfoy."

"What be that," he inquired, standing. He could see Alabaster and company returning, stalled at the door for a moment in conversation with another man.

She twirled her fingers around each other, ignoring his gaze. Her future husband would arrive back in a moment and ruin the conversation, which was something she was not looking forward to. Although Dreu Malfoy had sought her out and not the other way around, but in his presence she realized what a vital role he could play in her decision. Here stood someone that witnessed what had happened between the exclusive Harmony Potter and Alabaster, a story she had learned about from the very lips of the victim. Who was to say the story had not been altered to make her sound like the damsel, when she was indeed the one seeking love? If she wanted confirmation about Alabaster Snape before she was forever wed to the man, then she needed to speak with the young Malfoy heir again.

Finally, her eyes turned up to meet his own. "Thou canst not tell me of all the things I wish to understand. I wish to know what thou really thinks of mine husband, but this ist not the place to discuss such topics." Sofia glanced at the door, noting that with Snape's attention span he would likely stop the conversation in a moment and move on. "When canst I see thee again?"

To this, the blonde arched an eyebrow. Aside from Harmony, it was not common for Malfoy men to venture out and speak to women who were already engaged to another, since the sole purpose of mingling with women in Kier Malfoy's eyes was to find a mate, and Harmony had always been the only exception. Although he was wed, he wondered how it would look for Sofia to venture over to his home just to seek conversation. That would not go over well with her possessive fiancé.

"I canst not say, for this is something I canst not guarantee. Thou will be most hard to locate alone again, and although this mystery topic intrigues me I dost not want to cause confrontation between myself and thy fiancé." He nodded towards her, just once. "Perhaps though, our paths will intersect again in the future. But I must be going Lady Madeline. Good day." With that, he turned and left.

She frowned at his hasty farewell, but realized why he was so quick to depart a moment later when Alabaster and his colleague returned. With a painted smile, she appeased her future husband's interest in her current wellbeing enough that he looked away without saying a word and resumed the conversation he had been holding. Glancing over her shoulder, she searched for the attractive blonde male she had just finished speaking with, but he was nowhere to be found. Saddened a bit by this fact, she turned back to her average, blonde fiancé. Looking into his eyes, she could sense that ever present dark hunger that constantly lingered there. With Harmony's words and Dreu's elusive edge haunting her mind, she resumed stirring her food. There was something about Alabaster Snape that was beginning to scare her, but for now she couldn't quite place what it was.

But she intended to find out.

**Part 2: Pretend You're Not My Friend, 1996 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy(16) and Hermione Jean Granger (16)**

It was tough to deal with the memories of time. His heart pulsing, beating, practically jumping from his chest, Draco dragged his sweat soaked body through the Slytherin common room. It was only third hour, but these frequent head rushes and torturous headaches made it impossible to be in class. What's more, he couldn't stand the idea of being seen like this by anyone. A lot was already expected of him that year and if one of the bleeding, snobby Slytherin-turned-Death Eater students got word to the Dark Lord that he was unfit to continue with his task, the price would be horrendous. No, that couldn't happen and instead he would just have to stomach the pain and keep trudging on until he found relief in the shower. Hopefully he would not pass out in there again.

The phenomenon was something he didn't understand. Never before had he been plagued with such terrible headaches. Finding his dorm he threw open the door and stumbled in, already disrobing. A flash of a different scene jumped into his vision and he tripped over one of the chests thinking it wasn't there. The timeline for the scene had been wrong though, and it screamed Fifteen Century. There was a woman within his sight for just a moment before he hit the ground and groaned. This couldn't be happening again.

Afraid of being called a mental patient, Draco upright refused to tell anyone about what he was experiencing. It was scary to tolerate alone, but being pulled from school to live in the nuthouse was even more traumatizing. He would deal and that was that. Finally relieving himself of the last of his clothing- now strewn about the room- he hurried to the shower and turned it on, relishing in relief as the cold water attacked his skin. He sank down to the bottom of the shower as water pelted him, gripping his head. He hated this.

Another vision flashed through his conscious mind, some sort of glimpse of the past that he couldn't understand. It played by quickly, and only brought with it further confusion to his uneducated, sixteen year old mind.

"_So thou thinks I shant not marry mine fiancé," the woman asked- her name was Sofia, and it clicked into his mind quickly. She was dressed in robes that would've probably have been the height of fashion some decades ago, but the look on her face screamed disappointment, and perhaps sadness. _

_The blonde- a blonde that looked very much like Draco himself- nodded. "That ist my own opinion Sofia. Thou must decide for thyself what thine final decision is."_

_She nodded, and farewells were said. The woman left, and moments later the man put his head in his hands. Draco watched for a moment, before finding himself in a bent position, staring at darkness. Was he portraying the man now?_

_He decided so moments later when words he was not thinking slipped through his lips. "Thou should never half let thyself become engaged to Alabaster Snape._

The memory faded as quickly as it came. He returned gasping for air to the cold shower, thoroughly confused. Frustrated, he attacked the shower wall with his hands, irritated that he could not grasp what was going on. Why couldn't he just figure out what was wrong with him? If something like that happened in class one day… he didn't want to imagine what would happen.

It wasn't fair that he had to deal with this issue. Leaning his head on his bent knees, he wished the shower would drown him. That would make things a whole lot easier.

**Present Day**

Draco came out of his dream slowly. He was in his own room, asleep yet again in a bed without a partner. After speaking with Hermione for only a few more minutes last night, they had parted ways until potions class the following day. He supposed it had to be early morning now.

Sitting up, he rubbed his face. Rarely did he ever have dreams about remembering in this life, for the memories were still fairly fresh in his mind. It was odd however to dream of that certain event. Nothing interesting or important had actually happened, but the aftermath of his dream had him wide awake. Something about it had his mind turning. Throwing off the covers he stood up in only boxers, having been too exhausted from the day to bother with nightwear. He strode to the window and looked out on black scenery, the moon and stars absent due to clouds. A name echoed in his mind.

_Sofia Madeline. _

Sofia had been Alabaster Snape's bride to be, someone that the man was quite smitten with lifetimes ago. She was also someone that Harmony and Dreu had worked to pull away from Alabaster simply because they knew his true personality. And the plan had worked with dire results. Yes, the woman told her father of what she had learned from the pair at different times, declaring that she would not go through with the union. At the time it was unheard of, but the young girl's father agreed that Snape seemed shady and called off the marriage only days before it was to happen. It was no secret to the town back then that Harmony and Dreu were responsible for the break between the two, and that Snape was not happy about losing his bride. He recalled many of the things Alabaster said to him each time they passed each other after that event, but never actually learned what the man did to Harmony, if anything. Alabaster did not remain forever there though, and Draco didn't have the slightest idea where he went after leaving. He honestly didn't care.

But Sofia was not someone that stood out in his mind. All of Hermione's past lives were certainly highlights in his thoughts, and his wives and children stood out as well, but Sofia was a woman he only ever spoke with twice. So why would he dream of something seemingly unimportant?

The gears in his mind were still working. _Harmony and I ruined that marriage; everyone knew. If Severus remembers the past as I suspect, that could explain why he seems so persistent to bother us. But why hold a grudge after five centuries? I hate Viktor Krum, but his past life literally killed Hermione- Penelope. That's different, isn't it? I have not wreaked any sort of revenge on Viktor aside from stealing Hermione away, so why ever would Snape bother holding such a grudge over seemingly unimportant events? It's long over, and he obviously has no one to wed that I plan to steer away. It doesn't make sense. _

But he knew in the back of his mind that he did. A grudge can carry years, why not centuries? Perhaps Snape really was holding a grudge over losing Sofia Madeline, but Draco thought that was a petty excuse for revenge. Sighing, he turned back to his bed, knowing that sleep would be hard to come by. He couldn't deny it now; something about that name did not sit well in his stomach, but the dream that actually reminded him that Sofia ever existed was peculiar indeed. Then again, things had been happening in strange ways lately.

* * *

He couldn't stop studying Snape. Something about the fucking dream kept bothering him throughout potions, and it had his nerves on edge. Considering Sofia Madeline as a reason for Snape's anger was absurd, but he couldn't force the thoughts away. Since he had agreed with Hermione that they wouldn't speak until that night, he had no way of conveying his thoughts. While Draco was watching Snape, Snape watched Draco, and Hermione. It was a constant battle of glances and cold stares, and the blonde got the feeling that he was not keeping up appearances very well. If he wanted Snape to believe that he was still under the curse, he had to stop letting all of his emotions shine through. He was known for a cold exterior, after all.

It was after class that Draco decided to confront the man. He waited until the class was gone, knowing very well that Severus had a free period next. After the last student had departed, he moved to the front and stood in front of the potions master's desk. He looked up with a raised eyebrow, obviously surprised that the blonde had remained.

"What are you doing here? Get on- we don't want Miss Granger suspecting anything is up, any more than she already is." He beckoned with his hand. "Off with you."

Draco vaguely recalled agreeing with Hermione that keeping his cover was important, but pushed it from his thoughts. He couldn't stop seeing Severus as Alabaster, and the thought was driving him mad. Of course the origin of hate came from the only lifetime he recalled crossing paths with the man's soul, but he didn't have his exact answer. The man was obviously coy, able to trick them, but something about his rash actions- like placing Draco under an Imperio- told him he was not experienced with this phenomenon. Or maybe something else gave away his inexperience, but none of it mattered. He intended to pry at whatever he could; fuck his plans with Hermione. He still needed to be on her good side, but he needed to know she was safe more.

"I suspect that she is only bloody curious because of my abrupt change in behavior, Snape," Draco replied, keeping his tone as dead as possible. The man's eyes narrowed at his words but he said nothing in response and just studied the blonde before him. The accusation was not direct on anything, but the fact that Draco was even mildly speaking back seemed to throw the man.

"Perhaps that is it," Severus drawled, rising from his chair. His eyes never left the steely slates that bore into his own, and he moved to stand opposite the young man, the desk no longer between them. "Yes, perhaps your sudden change in behavior does draw unneeded attention." The wand came out, and Malfoy tensed. He didn't want to draw his own wand just yet, he wanted everything to go perfectly, and that meant not alerting Snape that he knew anything.

"Or maybe it is something else entirely," the raven-haired man mused, pointing the fine piece of wood at his hated godson's chest. "I think we both know there is more than speculation going on within Miss Granger's brain Mr. Malfoy, and I would appreciate it if you would drop this pathetic act. I already know the spell is broken."

Blonde eyebrows shot up a degree, but Draco said nothing in response. He had no idea how Snape could know such a thing.

"Don't look so surprised Mr. Malfoy. Do you think there is no method to my madness? I know that Miss Granger heard me speaking to you that night in the corridor, when I _cursed _you."

The blonde's hand snapped down, grasping his own wand. Snape did nothing to stop him until the weapon was out, and then he only spoke simple words. "Fighting is sometimes futile Draco. We both have our own little secrets, and they intermix in more ways than you think. Don't play me a fool; I know you remember history."

"And you are telling me you do as well," Draco snapped, taking a determined stance. He didn't like how Snape was so unnervingly calm about what was going on, when Draco had been under the very impression that he and Hermione were keeping a secret, one which they would use against this very man. How did he ever know that she had been there that night?

He smiled, but it came out in twisted lines that gave the impression of a scowl instead. "You're not stupid Mr. Malfoy; we both know that I remember by now. That educated mind of yours has to have grasped the point that I remember who I once was, and I know you remember the same. Perhaps even Hermione- I'm sorry, _Harmony_- remembers as well? Or is that just a fruitless longing of yours; to have her again?"

Draco bit his lip, tensing. Snape was doing a fine job of playing with his heartstrings, and he didn't like it one bit. But this attempt at intimidation had to be leading someplace and he intended to figure out just what Severus was hinting at _before _he started attacking. At the very least, he was going to owe Hermione a story if he accidently killed the potions Professor.

"That's right Draco, I figured it out. I started having those headaches, I started getting dizzy. I tried to recall a time when anyone had ever experienced something of the same nature. The memories came back, but I didn't understand them, not at the time. But now, I do. I have thought about them for a very long time, and let me tell you I am most unhappy with certain occurrences I can recall. One of them actually involves a Dreu _Malfoy, _who unsurprisingly looks a lot like you. And a young woman, Harmony _Potter_, who seems to be quite similar to Miss Granger. Do these names ring any bells?"

"Do I have to answer? You have obviously figured some things out, and you do not need my confirmation. What exactly is it you're trying to get at?"

Snape clicked his tongue. "Don't be rash; I am giving you an opportunity to understand things from my perspective. I now understand that you were once Dreu, and I am certain Hermione Granger was once Harmony Potter. You look so similar it's remarkable, and some people I simply cannot mistake. When I finally realized who they were, well, I knew who to target."

"And what do you want? I am not in the mood to play your games; I don't have time. Whatever it is you want, you can leave her out of it. If I recall, _I _was always more of a problem for _Alabaster_, than Harmony ever stood to be. You have nothing to settle with her, so don't bother her. Whatever is bothering you, whatever you have to even up can be dealt with through me? She will not have any place in this game."

There was a pregnant pause following his words. Snape seemed to be processing them, taking each individual word into his mind to remember. As the silence stretched on, Draco realized what he had done. He had given away the truth that he did care substantially for Hermione, and in the eyes of the enemy that truth was worth gold. Standing there in silence as Snape evaluated his next plan, he recognized his fault. It didn't matter now who Snape planned to attack, because he knew what his leverage was now; one of them seemed to do whatever they had to in order to protect the other. If he wanted revenge, if he wanted to settle a score, he had what he needed to know.

Eventually, that crooked smile broke across his face again. "I see. Then perhaps we have nothing left to discuss Mr. Malfoy. You may be on your way; your next class is missing you."

"What are you talking about? We have everything to discuss right now! I'm not leaving here until something is settled; you just told me too much for me to turn around and leave right now."

And to this, the man only laughed. "Yes, perhaps I have. And what exactly will you do with this knowledge if things end here? We can duel, but it will settle nothing, don't you agree? It's not what I want, and until I am satisfied nothing will be concluded. You could kill me, but that would only leave you in a bad situation, one your Lovely might not be able to accept."

The fact that Snape could even say the word 'lovely' was a bit appalling, but Draco didn't let that fact distract him. "What is your point? Why can't a duel end things? Obviously you have some sort of suppressed grudge towards me, and until it can be satisfied you will not be happy. Stop prolonging things and just fucking do something!"

"And then," Severus said, raising one finger off his wand to point at the angered student. "I would lose my edge. You can do nothing outside of this classroom, except speak with Miss Granger. You can tell no one of this confrontation, because the truth is unbelievable, and more importantly must be kept a secret. If you went to anyone spilling lies, I would shoot them down and a conclusion would never be reached without the use of Veritaserum, and the results of that would be catastrophic. We already know what shall happen if we fight here, and killing me will only repeat the process again. That's what happens isn't it; when something happens that builds can undying grudge? It is the only thing that seems to have caused me pain."

_But you haven't always remembered. _Draco documented that thought, thinking it just might come in handy later. Everything Snape had pointed out so far was true; he could not deny that. It left a very unsettled feeling in his stomach, like he was about to lose something important.

"So really, there remains only one option," Snape continued, smirking, "You just have to wait and see what happens when I strike. You once caused me to lose someone, and now I will only return the favor."

His eyes widened a fraction, focusing on the only person he could mean. His mind raced back to the brunette who sat two floors above, completely oblivious to what was happening down in the dungeons. His heartbeat picked up at the thought of something happening to her.

_Over my dead body._

**Part 3: Potion, 1489 (Life One)**

**Isaac Talin Grady**

Isaac Talin Grady never lived to embody the life his deceased sister did. He had no hidden romances, no forbidden love, and he certainly did not die at nineteen like Penelope did. No, Isaac was quite a different person.

But he had a heart, and while his father stood blind and oblivious to the mishaps she went about on a daily basis, her only brother stood silently. Perhaps he never intervened because he had known Lowell Malfoy since the boy's birth, or maybe it was because he saw the way her eyes twinkled when they spoke. Even after their mother's death, Lowell always seemed to make her feel better. It was strange to observe, considering how the families were meant to dislike each other.

He didn't visit the graves until December, barely a month after the burial. His father never came, and what the Malfoy's did was none of his business. The family tombs had been oddly abandoned for this occasion, something that had the whole town talking. Isaac did not know what exactly had happened, but he had heard many rumors surrounding Penelope's former fiancé, Henry. Why ever his sister's fiancé would push for the two to be laid to rest together was beyond him, but he did not question it. Perhaps he simply felt guilt. But what was there to be guilty about?

The convenience of having both young adults laid to rest beside one another was perfect. In his silence, Isaac knew that Penelope's heart must have belonged to another, and the night's she spent away from Henry, Isaac knew were spent with Lowell. He was an awful brother to not have kept the young man away from his sister, but what happened behind closed doors was something he could not force himself to think about. The connection they had was strong and he could almost feel it when they were together. Staring down at the patches of earth now, he felt his heart sink a bit. As a brother, he hadn't done enough to protect her from the dangers of the world. Removing the bag he had brought along, he knelt on the snow covered earth.

"The house seems so empty without mine sister's presence," he breathed, looking at Penelope's grave. The moonlight was oddly perfect tonight, and he was thankful for it. Whatever the bond was that Penelope and Lowell had, it was one he speculated should not be lost.

He reached for the lone bag he had brought along, flipping it open to find the contents. Hours poring over old spell books and incorrectly formulating potions had led him to this perfect concoction. Everything had been tried twice, and now he could assume that it was near perfection. This was the best he had come up with, and he knew what he needed to do. As he had said, this type of bond could not be lost over tragedy.

He did not believe that Lowell Belmont Malfoy was his sister's killer. They were too close for that, and whatever tragedy had ripped her from this earth carried him along in the backsplash. They both died at roughly the same time in two very different ways, and although he would never know just how that happened he could hope for them in the future. He was an accomplished wizard, and it was about time he finally put his talents to better use than laziness.

The bottle he removed had been difficult to carry, and he was thankful to see that none of the contents had leaked out due to a break. Standing up again he pulled the bag back onto his shoulder, the spell memorized by this point. He turned to the first grave- Lowell's- and poured half the bottle onto the earth before he spoke.

"Let thou find thy mate in the future; let the heavens and the stars carry thee to thy happiness, no matter the ages. Let thou remember this life and all those proceeding this era, until thy time comes when thee can be released from this spell, when thou partner accepts thou."

He stepped back, knowing he was dumping more on the former Malfoy heir. There was reason of course that he was giving the harder task- of remembering- to someone that was not his sister. He believed they would eventually find each other again, but he would not be able to make Penelope suffer. Lowell would have to take the hard task up, but the end results would hopefully pay off when they somehow again met up.

He turned to his sister's grave, sadness again hurtling through his chest. How he missed her, though they spoke so little. He missed the conversations, but mostly he missed her presence. Pouring the rest of the bottle onto the earth over her body, he placed the bottle back into his bag.

"Let thou find happiness, till thou mate finds thee again. Let thou know happiness, but never know it fully. When thou partner finds thee, convinces thee that thy ist meant for him, let thou find unlimited happiness and the cycle break. Let thou remember nothing, until thou mate canst convince thee to go with him."

He stepped away, sighing. He wouldn't live to see if this worked out, or worked at all. Turning away, he tucked his hands back into the pockets of his cloak. It was not a guaranteed success, but it was an attempt. He still wondered sometimes about Penelope and Lowell, about what _really _happened between them, but he would never find his answers. All he could really do was try and help them find one another in the future.

Maybe someday his sister would be out rightly happy again, like she was before Henry Krum came around.


	25. The Suspicion

**A/n: **Okay, prepare the pitchforks. I left you for another two weeks without an update! Bad me! I actually ended up leaving the state unexpectedly for a funeral and just recently returned. I left my flash drive and my laptop here, so this is the first chance I've had to write anything. Hope you lovelies can forgive me! Now if you like the following (long) chapter please leave a review at the bottom! The end is coming… Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Part 1: Fears, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

"Hermione," he called, hurrying to catch up with the witch in the distance. His conversation with Snape earlier had progressed through the entire period, and as the next class came in he was forced to depart. Luckily, he found the witch he needed to speak with on her way to her room, and damn it all if he wasn't going to rush to her.

"Draco?" she asked, cocking her head to the side at his speedy entrance. He stopped at her side- barely breathing hard at all- and ushered her quickly into her dorm with a firm hand placed on her back. The moment the portrait slid shut he enveloped her in a hug. The sudden body contact threw her off entirely.

"Draco- what's gotten into you?" She hugged him back briefly, before giving the needy blonde a slight shove back so she could frown at him. "Is everything alright? I hardly think that screaming my _first_ name down a corridor is considered keeping a low profile."

He sighed, running tired fingers through his hair. It wasn't even lunch yet and he was thoroughly ready to sleep. Grasping one of her hands, he led her to the couch and forced her to sit beside him, despite the witches irritated protests. "It's Snape."

"Yes, we've had this issue for a while I believe."

Slate eyes slid to the side, glaring at her without turning his head. "I bloody well know that! I'm talking about today!"

"What about today?" she questioned slowly, folding her legs up on the couch. Today she wore the trousers given to the girls for colder weather, and it hid any part of her that she did not wish to exhibit.

Malfoy sighed, looking away again. "I spoke with him after class-"

"I thought you were going to try and seem inconspicuous-"

"Woman, let me finish will you? I planned to only screw with his mind a bit to see if he would drop anything of use to me by accident, but things didn't go according to plan I'm afraid."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean they didn't go according to plan?"

"Well," he said, running his fingers through his hair again, "He has already figured out that I am no longer under the spell, as well as he knows that you heard us speaking in the corridor."

Hermione's eyes widened a fraction. "So any advantage we may have had is gone. Did he say anything else? If he knows he can't be holding back, because that would be foolish." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Did he say anything else?"

Draco resisted the urge to cringe, recalling some of the last things Snape said to him before he had to dash away and search for Hermione. _"You just have to wait and see what happens when I strike. You once caused me to lose someone, and now I will only return the favor."_ He recalled the threat, and how unnerved he was with everything he had learned. He also remembered the dream from last night, the dream about one Sofia Madeline that he had long since forgotten existed, until now.

Telling her would mean letting her know she was possibly in more danger than he was. He had lost her to the jealousy and anger of a man before because she had gotten too involved, and he couldn't stand the idea of doing it again. "No, he just rambled on about the same things. He didn't tell me much at all."

She nodded, though her eyes told him that she believed there was more to the story. Indeed, it did seem like more would've been said, but he couldn't make the words come out. He could only remember Penelope- sweet, innocent Penelope- as the light left her eyes when he let a man's anger get too close. He couldn't think about Hermione suffering the same fate.

"He didn't give up much at all then," she muttered, swishing her hair over one shoulder. He loved how she looked with the curls hanging loose, emphasizing her gentle features; such a contrast to his sharp, aristocratic appearance. "I thought you were going to tell me you found out something important Draco."

_I found out he's trying to get even. _"So did I," he said softly, watching her. The urge to reach out and hug her was strong, but he resisted. If he pulled her to him like he desperately needed her, then she would almost certainly see through his lie. Instead he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down, hoping she wouldn't ask anything more.

And although she wanted to pester him with questions, she got the feeling that something was really bothering him. His demur spoke volumes and she clamped her mouth shut as he looked down. Maybe he wouldn't tell her exactly what happened between him and Snape just then, but if she could get it out of him later she could live with that.

"How about I come see you tonight, down in your dorm?" she asked, reaching out to rub his arm. "We can talk some more, and perhaps even establish a plan of action. We can't put things off anymore; we've said it before."

"Indeed," he agreed, looking up again. He smiled at her softly, trying to assure her that nothing was bothering him. "Tonight then."

She nodded, and leaned up to kiss him softly. His body relaxed at this, and she took it as a good sign that he still could relax. When she finally pulled back, he swung an arm around her, keeping her near his body.

"I'm not quite ready to return to the outside world yet," he admitted, looking on at her. If he could convince her to remain with him there, kissing in that sweet little way that only she could, he would be a very happy man. "Just a few minutes more?"

"Our friends will wonder where we are. Snape will wonder-"

"Let them wonder then," he said quietly, grabbing her chin, "Let them wonder for just a few minutes more."

Despite what she wanted to say, Hermione stopped herself from arguing. Something about the look in his eyes told her that she needed to be quiet and let him have those few minutes. They looked haunted- afraid- and she didn't want to consider why just yet. There were things he was keeping from her, and she intended to find out tonight. But if she could put him in a good mood now, it would make later on much easier.

They were in this together; he couldn't keep anything from her. She wouldn't allow it, no matter his reasoning.

**Part 2: Hurt You, 1868 (Life Five)**

**Rafe Dax Malfoy (23) and Hannalore Marie Hollingberry (28)**

He didn't care for her one bit. She was elegant, beautiful, and wanted by many. Yet he couldn't stand her. She had a voice that was higher than normal, and she constantly clung to him in a very improper way that often had him shrugging her off. Taking her on "dates" was only to appease his parents- Nadia and Aster. They could not cope with the idea of their eldest son never wedding, and thus Rafe found himself cast off to numerous women, all in an ill-fated attempt to find him a wife to bear a heir. Now if he would only try a bit more, perhaps something would come out of his parents efforts. As it was though, it seemed that Rafe would do nothing to make himself desirable. Looks were a given, but mannerisms were where he lacked. He did nothing to make this girl feel important.

Her name was Victoria, and she made him want to commit suicide- _again. _

Their current "date" was going less than swimmingly. Her parents sat in a corner of the establishment they had come to, trying to watch without being overshadowing. The blonde was actually thankful for their presence on the scene that day, simply because they were a feature of the restaurant- _the only feature_- that would keep the frisky females body at bay. If she were not looking for a committed relationship, he would bed her and be done with it. But giving into his animalistic nature would help no one in this situation, and thus he was forced to keep his wandering mind at bay. His sexual desires could not be satisfied by this girl, or Hannalore, who had once been his dirty little secret. Now she was only a fantasy.

He bit his tongue, regretting his previous thoughts. Victoria was pleasant to an extent, but using her as a vice would be immoral; although she was a pain, the girl deserved to have someone that would care a great deal for her, not use her. If he treated her as a toy he would be following the same path Hannalore's husband Robert, and that was not something that sounded joyous. Robert was an abusive arse, and he could not fathom the idea of becoming the same monster he was.

She was saying something, but he simply couldn't follow her lips. The vision of a child caught his attention from behind her back, and his eyes zeroed in on the form. His breath caught as he recognized the boy as Liam Hollingberry- the offspring of Hannalore and Robert. He had to be nearly twelve years old at this point, though he was remarkably short. Perhaps the boy would take after his mother, who was also a petite wonder, whereas the father stood as the towering monster.

Liam walked until he stood beside the form of another. He recognized this as Hanna herself, who only seemed to look worse and worse each time they crossed paths. The last time had started out as a fiery inferno that erupted too quickly for either of them; hiding in a closest while giving into one's desires really could cause the heat to rise. But as always, she looked worn and tired, and he tightened his grip on the table. Again, it looked like her day was bad.

The child though seemed to have other plans in his mind than just idly wandering through the establishment. For one thing, Rafe knew very well that a stern hand would come down on the boy if his father caught him looking directly into a Malfoy's eyes, but here stood a boy brave enough to go against the authority of his parent and look Rafe head-on. In fact it appeared that he was speaking with his mother, and the woman would occasionally glance over.

Liam Hollingberry was as smart as children could come. He knew that his mother was faithless to the horror she had married, and even at a young age Liam seemed to understand why she snuck off. After being found out by the child last year, neither adult bothered lying to him. And for whatever reason, the young boy kept his mother's mishaps to himself. He lied to the man that brought in money, yet protected one who could never benefit that family. Rafe would never understand the lad, but he would be forever grateful that the child allowed him to have his mother when she needed the comfort, and perhaps that was why he never spoke a word to anyone; he saw the purpose behind their actions.

Victoria seemed oblivious to the scene behind her, and Malfoy was most grateful for this. But as Liam stepped away from his mother, the blonde's eyebrows shot up. Boldly, the child made his way over to the pair, never once paying any attention to the set of parents who watched him from afar. Vaguely, Rafe wondered if Victoria's parents realized what was going to happen. He tapped the talkative woman on the shoulder, drawing her out of whatever boring conversation Rafe was ignoring.

"Will thou join me for a walk in the gardens out back," the boy asked, feigning shyness.

At this, Victoria lit up and Rafe suppressed a coy smile. He knew very well that the girl was beautiful, but a child under the age of fifteen would never stand a chance with the likes of her. On more than one occasion however, men under the age of seventeen had asked the girl to take a stroll with them, and he never objected. She was six years younger than him, and if she could find a suitor closer to her age it would simply work in his benefit. As the two turned away, Liam gave Rafe a stern look. Perhaps they had come to the same restaurant that day for serious matters and not stress relief.

He waited many minutes before he stepped out the front of the building, Hanna following him a second later. He expected her arrival, and chose for them a shady table beneath a decorative umbrella, hopefully shielding them enough from prying eyes.

"Why dost thou seek me out?" he asked, clasping his hands beneath his chin. She did indeed look paler that day, and it caused his brow to crease. She didn't quite look beaten, but then she was a master of covering the evidence as well. But he knew marks existed beneath the painted expression on her face.

"I have found something of thee's," she replied, pulling out a minute sack. He raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing as she opened it and removed the contents. His breath caught as the golden band appeared before him.

"This ist Malfoy inscripted," she said, looking at him through the corners of her eyes. "Thou hast never given to me something of such importance, yet ist litters the contents of the most precious jewels of mine jewelry box. Did thou slip this in mine home when I was but absent? If mine husband ever saw, terrible things shall befall me."

He gulped, not out of guilt but wonder. It was the same band he had given to Penelope years before, the same one he hid in the contents of _Harmony's _jewelry decades back. How the band had survived overtime he knew not, only that he had not expected to see it again. Though it held extreme value in his eyes, to most it was but a simple ring, nothing to think on. Harmony never knew the story of the band, so why would she- and two other of Hermione's reincarnated lives- have kept the band around this long. The carved _Malfoy_ inside the band was barely noticeable, and he thought it would be discarded long ago. Seeing it now sent chills through his body.

"Ist but a fake," he said quickly, having nearly forgotten that he was amidst a conversation with the one woman he valued most. "I put it in thine jewelry as a ploy, to get a laugh. Nothing more, Hanna."

Her eyes widened. "Thou dost lie! Thou could have gotten me hurt for such foolish games! Robert would not take kindly to such things."

Oh, he knew Robert would not like this one bit. Extending his hand, he waited until she dropped the item into his hand before he inspected it. Yes, it was the same ring he had hidden away centuries before.

"Yes, ist very foolish," he whispered, studying it once more. "How did thou happen upon it?"

"By looking through mine jewels," she replied, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it was, save for the fact that it had remained with the same girl for centuries without having been brought up again.

"I see," he continued, opening a pocket to drop it into his coat. "I shall take this then; no reason to cause thou more hardships."

Hanna pressed her lips into a thin line. She had hoped that they could avoid that. "Yes, that ist most appreciated, Rafe."

He nodded. "I canst not linger with thou. Victoria shall return in but moments and it will not go over well if thou ist in my company. I am to be looking for a bride."

"Congratulations," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Thou seems most excited."

"Yes, excited," he remarked, standing. He offered her his arm- something he never did for Victoria unless forced- and walked her back to the door. There they parted ways. As he made his way back to the table, the ring felt like lead in his pocket.

He had not seen his original engagement ring for decades, the one he had always wanted on Penelope's finger. And now he had it back, but whatever would he do with it if he did not desire a bride?

_It shall collect dust in mine cabinets. _

**Part 3: Through My Eyes, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermoine Jean Granger**

The day dragged on. It seemed like an eternity had passed before Draco was in his room again, and the door finally opened. He trusted Hermione with his password more than anyone else, and he smiled lightly at her as she entered.

"At least nothing happened with Snape today," she remarked as they sat on the couch together. Kissing Draco Malfoy was quite pleasant, but they needed to get down to business, no matter how many times he tried to object with his lips.

"We have nothing to go on though," he groaned, leaning back to run his fingers through his hair. He knew quite a bit about what Snape wanted, and Hermione's insistence to come up with a plan made it quite hard for him to think about how to keep things secret. She was so eager to get rid of Snape so they could focus on their relationship- and perhaps telling the bloody school in due time- that it bothered him to block her out. She had a right to know his thoughts on the issue, but he didn't want to leave her vulnerable to attacks from the potions master. Reincarnation could really be some risky business.

"Do you recall Sofia Madeline?" he asked from nowhere, recalling Snape's declaration for vengeance. Hermione had been going on about some sort of plan she had, but he simply could not focus. When he looked back at her, she looked thrown by his question.

"Alabaster's almost wife," she asked, cocking her head. "I vaguely do, although I don't see how that holds any relevance to the current topic. She's dead, and even if she exists in this lifetime I doubt finding her will do us any good. Think of how long it took you to make me remember-"

"That's not what I'm getting at," he said, shaking his head at her. She frowned, crossing her arms. Now he was in trouble; if he wanted to get his point across he was going to have to tell her what Snape had said to him.

"Then what are you getting at?"

He sighed, beckoning with his hand as he leaned a bit closer to her. Her frown deepened, but she leaned in and did the same. "I can show you what I mean you know. I've done it before."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with realization. "You're going to drag me back into the contents of your mind?"

The blonde shrugged. "It will work better than me trying to explain it all to you."

She smirked. "Well, we've never done this when I actually remember." She scooted closer. "So what exactly are you going to show me Draco?"

Although she was lighthearted, he couldn't put on the same face. Instead of painting a fake smile across his lips, he just shook his head. "Nothing good I'm afraid. I wasn't exactly supposed to see this."

Now, she looked a bit less sure about following him into his mind. "What do you mean?"

He didn't hesitate; he grabbed the back of her head and met her eyes straight in front of his own. "I'll show you."

* * *

_Dreu Antione Malfoy and Harmony Joan Potter_

_1538_

_Draco's Memories_

_He was there- Dreu. It wasn't his home though, not the one that Hermione recalled from that lifetime. The décor was wrong, and even the windows were too grand for the dark interior of Malfoy Manor. From her place, Hermione glanced at Draco, who for the first time was not going to taunt her in these memories, but actually planned to be nice to her as he showed her something. _

_Dreu was pacing the space, obviously stressed about something. Then a woman caught her attention, and she looked over to see Sofia Madeline, a face she had not remembered until this moment. Here was a woman she had spoken with many times to persuade her to stay away from Alabaster, yet she remembered so little of her. Did Sofia really have that minimal of an impact on her life?_

_To Hermione, the woman looked like she had been crying. She paused directly in front of Dreu, her cheeks red and eyes wet. "He ist a monster."_

"_Yes, I tried to tell thee. Thou should have left when the opportunity arose. Ties shall be harder to sever with marriage so close."_

"_I canst not marry him," she whispered, shaking her head. "He ist doing it again…"_

"_Cheating," he said simply, without emotion. Hermione glanced at Draco, wondering if he honestly didn't care that much when this conversation really had taken place. The statement was blatant, and the woman in front of Dreu flinched at his word._

"_Yes…"_

"_Thou hast but a choice now. Sever your relationship with Alabaster now or forever stand by that man's side. He hast done many horrible things, to Harmony and the like, and thou shall be jeopardizing thy very existence by wedding him. Ist thou decision, and I have offered my aid. The decision is solely thou's now."_

_Sofia looked alarmed by this revelation. Before she could respond, the slamming of a door from someplace in the house caught everyone's attention, and her head whipped around wildly as her eyes widened._

"_He ist home."_

"_That tends to happen," Dreu replied, crossing his arms. "It ist up to thou now; I canst not remain here. I wish thee luck." He turned his back to her then, disappearing through a set of doors away from where the sound had come from. Hermione saw him crouching there, waiting, and could only presume that Sofia never really noticed that he remained. _

_Alabaster arrived moments later. He scanned the area quickly and asked if she had any visitors that day, which she of course lied about. They spoke a few minutes longer, before she turned the conversation serious._

"_We must talk."_

"_What ist it thou wishes to discuss," he asked, his tone snippy. The man took a seat and beckoned for her to do the same, but she declined and remained where she was. Hermione watched as she glanced around, then beckoned for a maid or two to step in. This only seemed to make the man more curious._

"_Thou is faithless," she declared, crossing her arms. His eyes narrowed a degree, but otherwise he gave no sign that he was affected by her words at all. "When I be elsewhere, thou seeks companionship with woman without priorities. Ist faithless, and a scam. Thou ist using me, and will be but a horrid husband in our coming years."_

_He stood. "Stop talking to me like that this instant!"_

_She shook a finger at him. "No Alabaster. Thou always scares people because people believe there ist no help for them in thou presence, but they be wrong. This is mine mansion, not thou's. Mine parents be upstairs, not thee's. If thou wishes to make matters worse only make me scream, and mine father shall be very willing to sever thou head."_

_Alabaster looked alarmed. "What ist thou getting at? Thy believes I wish to harm thee?"_

"_Thou hast hurt people of lesser importance to him than I, and I doubt not that thee shall harm me in the future when disagreements arise. I have heard many a story of thou misdeeds, and I shall not become one of them. Thou harms woman, and looks at the girls littering this town when I am otherwise occupied. I am of a royal line, and this shall not stand."_

_The brunette bystander looked over at Alabaster Snape and could read the anger in his eyes. Obviously he did not like to hear his fiancé speaking to him like so, and she hoped he would not try to harm her. But as he took a few steps forward, she called for the guards that littered the mansion. Her cry seemed to startle the occupants of the building, and quickly a lot of shuffling broke out over the once calm atmosphere. Until that moment, Hermione had nearly forgotten that Sofia Madeline came from such a powerful line. In today's world, she would probably rank up with the Malfoy's and Zabini's. _

"_Dost not argue with me Alabaster," the girl said sadly, shaking her head. "It shall do little good. Thou hast overstepped the boundaries, and for this thee shall pay. I dost not like being fooled, and thy hast been playing me for a long while. Thou told me lies of thou generosity and loyalty and beliefs, but now I see the truth. I shall not marry someone who pretends to lead one life but ist something completely different."_

_The blonde drew his wand at the girl he was supposed to marry, but another wand was quickly pressed into his back. Hermione's hand found Draco's as the guard behind Alabaster forced him to his knees. But the older man only looked up and sneered._

"_Thou parents be not home."_

"_I am aware. I am the lady of this house- though young, I hold more power here than thou. My guards listen to me, and shall do my bidding on thee." She pocketed her wand again, removing a ring from her finger that had gone unnoticed until now. She cast the trinket across the room, nearly hitting the man in the face. "Take thou gifts and thy belongings and leave mine property; thee hast no more purpose here. I shall not marry a liar, and mine parents shall understand once I tell them of thou's lies. I wish not to see thee again, and thou shall do well to keep a distance. I play not when I am serious Alabaster, and I am more than serious now."_

_Slowly, Snape's face crumbled. Hermione's eyes widened a fraction, having never seen Snape look so sad- in any life. But in that moment it looked as though someone had reached in and literally pulled out all of his happiness. "Sofia-"_

"_Take him away," she demanded, turning her back on him entirely. One of the guards scooped and picked up the ring, recalling her demand for him to take everything he owned and be gone. His pleas for her to listen echoed through the stone walls as the guards removed him, and it was only when she believed she was alone that she fell onto the seat at her side, soft tears dripping down her face. _

"_My love," she spoke quietly, "Why did thou have to do this? We could have been all so happy, but now we shall know not that feeling together." She rubbed at neck. "We shall not be happy together, mine love. I blame thee for our break up." And with that Hermione watched the sad woman drop her face to the pillows. Though it confused her how someone could love someone so deeply twisted, she couldn't help pitying the girl just a bit. She was a victim of circumstance._

_From the corner of her eye, she noticed Dreu leaving, and the vision faded away._

* * *

The world was different this time as she returned. For once there was no urge to slug Draco upside the head for daring to drag her into those visions. But now she clearly remembered Sofia Madeline- and Alabaster's departure from England shortly after the engagement was called off- and how sad she became in the weeks following that event. Though she was not present on scene like Dreu, she did receive a clipped letter telling her that they need naught worry for the woman's safety anymore. She hadn't understood completely until now.

"So how is that relevant now," she asked, her head leaning on the back of the sofa. She turned it to look at him, finding herself looking into perfect disks of silver. His hand found hers on the couch, but she withdrew it. There was meaning behind this vision, and she wanted to know what it was before she let her mind travel anywhere.

He sighed, turning his head back to stare at the ceiling. "You know what a grudge is, yes?"

"Of course I do," she replied, eyebrows drawing together. "I saw a muggle horror movie about it actually."

"Movie?"

"Never mind," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "You still haven't told me the relevance."

Again, he let out a sign. "Snape's angry- angry about losing her. It appears that over the last several centuries he has developed a grudge towards me. Why? I believe he somehow discovered that at least I- perhaps you as well- were involved with Sofia's decision to leave him. And that anger has developed overtime into this burning, uncontrollable rage. I can't even imagine what he has in mind to get even with."

"How did he even remember," she muttered from beside him, voicing his earlier thoughts. Indeed, that same question had been on his mind for quite a while now.

"I don't know." He reached over, finding her hand again, and this time she allowed him to continue holding it. "But Hermione- this is dangerous. You've seen how my grudge towards Krum translated over decades, and if I'm right Snape has only had his memories back a bit longer than you; there may only be a few months difference. I doubt there is a year of knowledge there. If it's a grudge though, then he means business."

"What's the grudge for though? He's holding a grudge over losing a girl that he pushed away through his own actions, and he's daring to blame you- us?" She looked alarmed by this realization, and sat up straight. He followed, but his manner remained more composed. He was by far more adjusted to how people dealt with past memories than Hermione could comprehend.

"That's what I'm thinking- and it puts _you_ in danger." She stood up and began to wander around, about to say something when he again spoke. "I don't want you telling me this or that about my assumption. I caused him to lose the girl he loved through my fucking persuasion, and if his grudge holds true my bet is he will come after you."

She scoffed. "Draco- it's Snape. He's a good wizard but I'm not afraid of him. We know what he wants now, why, and probably how he will obtain it, so why don't we just duel him and get it over with? We can stop wasting time."

"And however will we explain that to the old bat? She'll have a fit if she hears that we cursed Severus to hell and back over reincarnation. It's a secret Hermione, one we can't talk about. If we attack him without a motive and get caught we can't tell the truth, and that will get us in a lot more trouble."

"So what do you propose we do Draco? Do you want us to sit around and wait and see what happens when he does strike? And what kind of explanation do you think he has for whenever he attacks us- me?! Huh?"

"I doubt he's even worried about that. Snape is so bent on getting vengeance that he probably isn't even focusing on what he will do when he gets caught. He's either ignoring it, or he simply doesn't care."

She threw her hands up. "Then what exactly do you expect me to do? Do you want me to tiptoe around this school, always on guard, until we can take him down? Or perhaps you don't plan to involve me in the attack at all, and you plan to go about stopping him all by yourself. Is that the plan? You're going to seek him out when I am elsewhere!"

"Will you stop jumping to conclusions?" He ran his hands over his face, stressed out because of her words. "Look, if I try to do this without you I am sure you will have my head. And I didn't think you would ever tiptoe around- just be cautious. I don't want something happening to you, and there will be hell to pay if Snape attempts to harm you." He shook his head, leaning forward to place it in his hands now. "Do we have to go into such depth right now? You're giving me a headache."

"I'm-"

He cut her off by standing, quickly walking over to her. He grabbed her face, kissing her full on with as much force as he could muster; anything to get her to drop the topic. "Look love," he sighed, resting his forehead on hers, "Please for Merlin's sake drop this tonight? We can get up early and talk about it all you wish, but I am exhausted right now."

She glared. "You're just escaping talking about it."

"Perhaps," he agreed, not really denying anything. Dropping his hands, he knit one over her's and interlocked their fingers. "Lay with me."

Quickly, she retracted her hand. "Draco-"

"I don't mean in a sexual way," he added quickly, grasping her hand once more. "Just lay with me for a while- for tonight. I need to know you are safe."

The desperation in his eyes broke her, and perhaps it was only that that broke her, and she agreed. Or maybe it was the butterflies that blossomed in her stomach at the thought of lying beside him. The blonde was more than happy to show her his bedroom, and he quickly got her comfortable before lying beside her. It was there that they fell asleep, having completely forgotten that Hermione only wished to stay for a while.

Though neither of them had any complaints about the sleeping situation.


	26. The Concern

**A/n: **Hello again! A chapter in just one week… wow, I'm a wonder right now! That's right, read it up because there's one more coming and a nice epilogue! The end is coming… Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Part 1: Flour and Crooks, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

She woke in a panic that morning, feeling the arms of another around her. She nearly flung the arms of this man off, when she recalled who this had to be. Draco had recommended she join him in bed for a while last night, and apparently they had fallen asleep. She also noted that she was fully clothed, and her wand sat by her head on the bed. She had almost freaked over nothing.

Detaching his arms from around her slowly she rolled over to face him. Blonde fringe littered his face in the early morning, and his usually crisp black shirt was quite wrinkled from sleeping in it. She did not recall him ever being pressed against her back in a loving hold, and assumed that they had somehow ended up in that position in the night. Looking at him now, she was almost jealous. Why couldn't she look so clean and gorgeous in the morning? Years of tolerating her curls had taught her that nothing could make them look normal after a night of sleep, and reaching up she could already tell they were going to be a pain to manage. Draco was simply graced with unnatural good looks.

She adjusted again to look for a clock. If she wanted to get back to her room and shower before the first class of the day, she would need about forty minutes to shower and eat-

"Great Merlin!" she cried, jumping out of bed. Her sudden movement jarred her blonde boyfriend awake, and he was alert within half a second.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, snatching up his wand. His eyes danced around the room as he scooted towards the standing girl, searching for a source of danger.

"What's wrong? What's wrong is that we are almost thirty minutes late to our first class! I thought it was earlier, but obviously we slept through your alarm-"

"I didn't set an alarm," he confessed, relaxing when he learned that nothing bad had happened. "We fell asleep before I had a chance to last night."

Her eyes got bigger. "We never had a chance of being on time to begin with," she cried out, throwing her hands up. "And it's a block schedule today so I'm missing double transfiguration with you!"

He rolled his eyes and caught her wrist as she attempted to barrel out of the classroom. "Hermione, if you rush downstairs now in your messy clothes without the proper items for class people are going to know immediately that you did something naughty last night- not that what we did was naughty!" He knew he wasn't helping the matter much as her eyes glowed with irritation.

"Then I'll have to go back, shower, change, collect my things-"

"And by then transfiguration will be nearly over. Calm down and relax; if you prepare for it like you would any other day you're going to arrive too late to really get anything done." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Stay here with me for another twenty minutes and we can use that difficult kitchenette here to make something for breakfast at least."

Her eyebrows shot up at that idea even as Draco pulled her back down to sit beside him. "_We_? I think you mean _me_, since I doubt you've ever cooked a day in your life."

The blonde chuckled. "That's true I suppose. If it bothers you to cook we don't have to eat breakfast-"

"Oh no," she replied, grabbing his hand as she stood so he would follow, "I might as well teach you something useful."

"What do you mean?"

"You, Draco Malfoy, are about to learn how to cook a decent breakfast the working class way, even if magic is involved a bit."

* * *

After throwing around a lot of flour to make pancakes and getting nowhere at all, the duo agreed to give up on Draco learning to make breakfast that morning and Hermione made toast instead. As she left his dorm to prepare for the day- after sharing a long, large kiss with her blonde knight- all she could think about was how ridiculous she must look with flour in her curls. Any student she passed along the way would surely give her an odd look since Hogwarts did not offer cooking classes.

She doubted there was anything to fear as she prowled the halls, since Snape either had a class or hid in his room during classes, and she took a bit longer getting there than normal. She would have to speed through her shower, but the walk was nice and she wouldn't be able to sneak another peek at Draco until lunch. Since her friends still did not know of her relationship she doubted it would seem inconspicuous if she struck up a conversation with the blonde in front of everyone. Their cover would be blown completely. And that was why she agreed to have the blonde up to her room later so they could hang out more.

It all happened too quickly for her to really register. One moment she was wandering down the halls, and the next she felt a harsh strike to the back of her head that sent her to the floor. Her vision burred as her hand went to snatch her wand from her pocket, but a muttered _Stupefy _stopped that method of defense. She was picked up and moved into a room where she finally caught the face of the attacker, and it was no surprise when her eyes met his.

She had been careless while walking, relying on previous knowledge of Snape's habits to ease her mind as she wandered to her room. Now she was stuck, and the evil glint in the man's eyes told her nothing good would come out of this kidnapping.

And no one would know she was missing until lunch, since she did not share a class with her friends next period. Merlin knew what Draco or anyone else was going to think when she wasn't present later.

* * *

He was on edge. From his seat at the table he could easily see over to her friends, yet she was not there. They appeared to be just as puzzled about this, as they checked the Great Hall doors just as often as he did. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, and it only got worse the longer he sat there.

"Blaise," he said at length, drawing the attention of the Italian beside him. "Granger wasn't in Charms, was she?"

The boy at his side shrugged, giving the blonde a sideways look when the grey eyes moved away from him again. "No, I didn't see her. Why does it matter?"

But Draco didn't respond, and instead moved his eyes to the Professor's table, biting his lip cheek as he saw Snape there. The man appeared the same as always, but something was different now. He looked… _happier_.

_He did something to her. I was a fool to let her out of my sight for a moment, and he took the opportunity to snatch her. But where would he take her?_

He had half a mind to storm up there right then, curse the man's balls off and demand some answers. But as it had been pointed out before, he would be unable to explain things when curious- and possibly frightened- faculty members and students began questioning what drove him to do that. Making a show out of things would blow up in his face.

The blonde stood from the table hastily, not caring one bit when his goblet spilt liquor all over the plate of a younger student beside him. His departure drew many eyes, but none that he bothered to look at. He knew exactly where the exit door led to from the Professor table, and he had every intention of speaking to the man immediately.

And with his back turned, he didn't see the slitted eyes glaring into his back, nor the two lanky forms of protective Gryffindor's rising from the table to pursue him. He was completely oblivious just then to his stalkers, and the delay they would likely cause.

**Part 2: Friend, 1762 (Life Four)**

**Damian P`ere Malfoy and Rivkah Tabitha Clayworth **

He watched his eldest son lead his younger children out into the snow, their bodies protected by the thick winter clothing his maid had helped them find in the chests upstairs. The house elves could have done this, but he preferred her to do it. The past two years had been empty without his wife in the house, and her company was appreciated.

And more importantly, her husband worked at the Clayworth home, and if he pried enough he could often hear something about the Lady of the mansion. Rivkah's children- Anastasia and Talon- were roughly the same age as his younger two. If he twisted his questions enough, his maid would let slip some things about the family that should be left private; like how the children loved the mother more, and that the father rarely spoke to his wife. It sounded just as unhappy as his own life, though he had expected Dennis Clayworth to show his beautiful wife more compassion. He wanted a trophy wife to begin with, but he treated her like a rag.

Cepheus, the eldest child, was currently swinging his sister around before throwing her into the snow. His four year old daughter thought it was fun, and continued to return to the eldest boy. It brought a smile to the bachelor's face, seeing his children have fun. And he had the sneaking suspicion that Evander planned to pelt Cepheus with snow.

Beside him, the maid shifted away. He knew she grew uncomfortable if they remained in silence too long. "How ist thou?"

He glanced at her sideways. "Surviving, Annaleen. Thou knowst this, so why dost thee question me so?"

Annaleen glanced away. "Thou seems so sad."

Damian clenched his jaw. On more than one occasion since Annaleen had started working there she had pointed out that he rarely appeared happy. He never gave her a reason, and let her always assume that it was because he was now a lonely man without a wife to share his bed. But it was not only that; it was Rivkah, who still haunted his every dream. For months after her death his wife Gemma became the star of his nightmares, and though she remained a haunting memory he could not say that she was still his greatest fear. She was gone and his children would grow up motherless from seventeen-sixty on, and nothing could be done to change that now. His life would go on.

However, seeing so much pity in the eyes of Rivkah drove him mad. She was so concerned with his state of mind since his wife's passing, that it made _her_ husband mad how much attention he received from her. Lately he had been ignoring her whenever she arrived or demanding that no one answer her knocks. He wanted to speak to her, but never about what she came to discuss. He wanted her to remember him in another life, but that couldn't happen; not in this life. It would highly overcomplicate things.

It was lonely indeed to carry through life all alone, but he would not complain. This solitude would keep things balanced until he could strive to have Penelope's reincarnated hand again, and perhaps the next life would be gracious on his suffering and allow him to finally have her as he had always dreamed. He would hold onto that hope to keep him going each day, for sometimes not even the thought of his children could egg him on.

Annaleen was right; he felt more alone than ever.

**Part 3: Hide and Seek, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

It hurt- her head. The darkness ebbed away slowly, and she was able to raise her head. Immediately it was evident that she was bound to a chair with her wrists tied too tightly, and a cloth gagging her mouth. Swiveling her head despite her discomfort she also noted that the thin rays of sun drifting through a closed window did little to illuminate the space before her, but it smelled foul and she wanted desperately to block off her nose for a moment and get some relief.

Where the bloody hell was she?

And then it clicked- the memories. She recalled being clocked on the head by something on her way back to her dorm from Draco's and then being pulled into a room by Snape. But everything else really didn't come to mind, as she recalled that the darkness had set in. Whatever happened between then and now was a mystery, and she feared discovering what he _had_ done to her during that time, if anything.

She shifted her legs- which were apparently also bound- to try and get away. Another terrifying thing came to her as she realized that her wand had been taken, and her best method of defense was now elsewhere. Where did Snape go, and why wasn't he there to glare cruelly into her face? Where was the malicious maniac?

Twisting again, she struggled to see anything. Whatever he was planning couldn't be good, and she only hoped that her big brain could conjure an idea to get away before he returned. She did not want to figure out what he wanted under any circumstances.

Now if she could only figure out how.

* * *

Draco leaned against the wall adjacent to where the Professors had to exit, biding his time until Snape appeared. The bastard had some explaining to do, and he'd be damned if the man blew him off. He knew that Hermione had to be somewhere hidden- or harmed- and it was all _his_ fault. The blonde intended to get answers out of him by whatever means he could; this would not stand.

People were leaving the Great Hall all the time, and he paid no mind when a pair of footsteps wandered in his direction; there were things accessible to students in this area and someone was probably just on their way to their next class.

He wasn't prepared however for the duo to stop beside him. Glancing over his heart stopped and he had to press his lips together to keep from cursing aloud. Well shit, this wasn't going to make things any easier.

"Malfoy," Harry began, shifting between feet, "We wanted to know if you know where Hermione is. She hasn't been around this morning and as the Head's we thought maybe-"

"Potter," he snapped, cutting the raven-haired boy off, "I don't know where she is. Trust me, if I did I wouldn't be standing here."

The Gryffindor's exchanged a glance, the ginger looking far more aggravated than Harry. "Look," Potter tried again, "I know we don't ever talk civilly-"

"_There's_ an understatement-"

"But," he snapped, cutting Draco off this time, "We want to know if you have any idea where she could be. She's been weird lately, often absent from our table entirely." He took a breath. "We believe you're the reason behind that."

Immediately it was apparent that the blonde didn't take that lightly, and he shoved away from the wall to look the pair head on. "What are you insinuating?"

Finally, Ron spoke up. "We think Hermione is spending more time with you and we demand to know why! You're a fucking Slytherin, so I'm sure you've cursed her or something to follow your commands. You two are always missing at the same time, and we demand to know why! Is she hiding in your room now like a prisoner? Tell us Malfoy so we can get this over with and get to our friend." He drew his wand, but the blonde could only roll his eyes.

"That's not the most intimidating speech I've ever heard in my life Weasley. Don't you think if I was harming your pretty little friend that you would've noticed a change in her behavior before now, or perhaps some marks? I might be a bastard, but I'm not causing her any harm."

Harry shifted again. "There has been change in her behavior though," he said, ignoring the glare Ron was now giving him. "She seems, happier, at least whenever we see her these days. And she is still missing all the same periods you are."

To this, the blonde laughed. "Are you actually saying my possible interference in her life is making her _happy_?"

Ron was livid. "No, he's not! He ate some expired food this morning, that's all. You could never make Hermione happy, not with all the shit you've done over the years. You're probably still trying to figure out a way to kill her, aren't you?"

"Weasley, I have a private meeting with her once a week to discuss Head duties and that of the Prefects. If I were planning to kill her I would've ages ago, since there have been so very many opportunities to."

The man's ears tinged red. "Stop trying to get the benefit of the doubt Malfoy; I know something is up and whatever happened to Hermione has something to do with you!"

"Have you checked the library?" Draco already knew there was little to know possibility of her being up there since she would've told him, and he remained dead set on speaking to Snape. The idiots before him were doing nothing to ease his worries, and he just wanted to know where Hermione was so he could feel better. But the longer they stood there yammering about ridiculous scenarios the less time he had to stage exactly what he planned to do when Snape came out. It was unlikely that the man would outright admit that he had her- especially now that tweedledee and tweedledum were standing in front of him with the continuous questions. If anything, Snape would use that as his getaway.

_I know she's with him. No one else is a threat, at least not anymore since Krum isn't around. Why did he have to take her? _

Potter was saying something, and he attempted to tap into what the illiterate was saying. "… afraid because we never see her. I don't know if you really do have anything to do with this at this point since all you're doing is standing outside the exit door for the teachers, but we need to know where she has gone. We're worried. Can you tell us anything?"

"I don't know anything," he snapped, fed up with the two before him. Behind him, the door clicked open and he was quick to whip his head around and spot Snape leaving. He made to move, but one of those insufferable Gryffindor's dared to grab his arm and hold him in place. He was going to have to break that limb!

The usual response from Snape about haphazard students never came, and the man turned without a word to continue on his way. Draco shoved the arm off to immediately pursue the man, but Weasley stepped in front of him and again blocked his path.

"We're not finished here," he said sternly, looking to Potter to back him up. But the Wonder Boy seemed to be paying him little attention as his eyes were locked on the blonde, as though studying him. The look in Potter's eye was unexplainable, but the Weasel didn't look like he liked it one bit. Malfoy made to pass him, and in turn the ginger shoved him back.

"I said we're not finished! You owe us some answers, and although you play stupid well I bet that you know something, you just don't want to say!" He pointed his wand at the Slytherin. "So talk! We don't have all night to wait around for you to start talking."

"Neither do I," he growled in response. "You don't realize the mistake you're making Weasley; I need to pass."

"Why?" he taunted. "Have somewhere else to be? Maybe you have to go and release Hermione from whatever awful place you hid her! Go on then, take us to her."

"Weasley…"

"Ron," Harry cautioned, still watching the blonde, "That's enough. We want answers, not a fight."

"I just want to know where Hermione is," the redhead spat, glancing between the two men opposite him. Draco's hand was itching to grab his own wand.

"So do I," the blonde snapped, shoving fringe from his face. "And if you would move out of the fucking way already, I might just be able to find her."

The ginger's eyes twinkled and to this Harry was snapped out of his composure. The other Gryffindor drew his wand at the same time that Malfoy did, and it all went to hell from there.

Draco didn't waste magic on Potter who stood beside him, and instead shoved him as hard into the stone wall as he could, thankfully knocking the wand from his hands. A simple spell had Weasley's wand in his grasp and he rushed the boy immediately, tackling him to the floor in one swift move. He had the boy's nose broken in a moment.

"That's for delaying me," he hissed, jumping off the injured redhead. He whirled around to face Potter, who was already throwing spells in his direction.

"What are you doing Malfoy?! We were trying to be civil!"

"He wasn't," he spat, indicating to the wandless boy. "You've wasted my time; I've got to go save Hermione."

Perhaps it was the use of her first name, or maybe the concern in his voice, but Potter's onslaught immediately stopped. His wand lowered and his mouth hung slightly open in disbelief of what he had heard. Even Ron lay still and let the uncanny words sink in.

Malfoy took a few steps back, watching the pair with guarded eyes. He was about to turn and bolt when Potter spoke once more.

"What's happening to her?" His voice sounded raw- horrified, at the idea that something terrible was actually happening to his friend and it was _not_ Draco's fault. The sincerity and pain that came out with those words from Malfoy's mouth was all that made him stop and consider.

But Draco gave no response, just turned his back. "I can't tell you; it's forbidden." He took off running.

The sound that followed was one he had hoped to avoid. Rushed footsteps picked up directly after his, and although no spells were thrown he could tell that the duo were pursuing him in his run. He should turn and keep them away- for they couldn't know the truth even when he started screaming at Snape- but he didn't. He just didn't care.

There would be a time to explain later. All that mattered then was to find _her_.

* * *

They were moving- but to where she knew not. The man had returned only a minute or so ago and shoved a wand at her throat, silencing her. He then bound a cloth tightly around her eyes before undoing the binds- and it was at that point that she tried to attack him. But he quickly had her pinned to the wall and rebound her hands. Now they were moving, and she couldn't fathom where he planned to take her.

She had been attempting to get away from him since the moment he returned, but whenever she struggled he would lightly sizzle her skin with a careful spell. Perhaps if she was not under a spell her cries would draw attention to them, but he seemed to pause whenever they were too close to something- people, from what she could hear. Were they invisible and that's how they went unnoticed, or was Snape really that sneaky? She wasn't sure.

The moment cold wind hit her face she tried to scramble back- he was taking her outside, but why? If his plan was to get back at her- and Draco- then why would he take her someplace the blonde likely wouldn't find her? Or perhaps that was the point; he wanted Draco to find her, but only once she was dead. She shuddered at the thought and attempted to escape his grasp more.

"Stop squirming," he hissed. "I know it's cold Miss Granger, but do control yourself. We are on some tall stairs, and it would be a shame for you to fall to your death now."

She stopped as he said, but planned to again try and escape his clutches once she felt they were on level ground again. Draco had to be wondering where she was, and even if he didn't show up for a while she did not have any intentions of letting this man end her life.

There had to be a way to escape, she just hadn't figured it out yet.

* * *

They followed him all the way down to the potions room, at which point he wasted no time blasting the door in. Damn it all, he was going to find her.

The room inside was empty. As he stopped in mild shock, he heard the duo entering behind him.

"Was that necessary?" Harry panted, only slightly out of breath. "Snape will not be happy when he sees this. What's so important about this room anyway?"

Draco sat atop one of the desks, bowing his head as he rubbed his face. "I don't give a damn about what Snape thinks," he whispered.

Ron angrily pointed his hand at the blonde from Harry's side, who still possessed his wand at that time. "You lied! You made up some ridiculous lie in order to try and slip away. Don't look so fucking sad because you failed; you are just a piece of shit! I actually thought maybe you wanted to find Hermione. But nothing bad is happening to her, at least nothing you will show us." He glared at Harry. "We're fools!"

Whatever Potter said in reply was lost to the blonde as he looked up in disbelief. If she wasn't here, then where? Snape had her- he knew it- but where had they gone? Had she been somewhere else to begin with, or did he come back and move her in the time he was busy trying to ditch the other Gryffindor's. Glancing around, he noted that the potions cabinet was opened and got up to go to it.

_Maybe if I don't find her there will be something in here at least that can poison me to death. _He paused as he reached the cabinet, noting that over half of its contents were placed neatly on the floor, and there was a _chair_ inside the storage place instead.

He walked in, noting the slashed cloth at his feet and cringed. Had she been here, bound to the chair and away from hope? It sent fire to his veins to think that someone had restricted her like so. Looking up, he saw that just a small trace of moonlight graced the dark space, and for no reason he walked to it and peered out onto the grounds. What he saw made his heart feel like ice.

Two figures were moving in the distance towards the forest. The potions class might've been located in the dungeons but the cabinet had two steps up that gave a viewer enough elevation to see out onto the grounds. The silhouettes were faint, but he didn't need a clear image to know who they were.

_He's taking you to the forest, but why?_

"Malfoy," Harry called, walking towards the cabinet the blonde had entered. He was shoved out of the way as his enemy soared past.

"Where are you going?!" Ron called, failing to catch onto the escapee as he made it out the door. In the following silence, the two Gryffindor's pondered his strange attitude.

"What was that about?" Ron aquired as he made to leave the potions classrom just as Harry entered the storage room. The ginger was halfway down the hall before he heard his name being called. "What?"

Harry came rushing out of the room too, panting again, and stopped at his friends side. "I think I understand."

"Understand? Understand what?"

"Where Malfoy ran off to. Ron, I think he might actually be searching for Hermione after all. There were figures entering the forest, and it's so late and cold only a fool would go."

"But who would bother going out there with her? What if it's someone else?"

Harry shrugged, beginning to jog. His friend hurried to keep up, continuing their conversation as they went. "I don't know for sure, but Malfoy seems determined that it's someone he must go see. He was spewing shit about saving her, so we may as well follow and see if he is telling the truth."

"You really think he is?"

The boy shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I don't know, but we're going to find out."


	27. Immortal Punishment

**A/n: **So… I'm going back to being a bad author again. We had a foreclosure on our house and sold a ton of things, including my laptop. Therefore, I can only write at school when there's time and my boyfriend's house. This story is nearly over so hopefully I can finish it up soon, but we'll have to see. ALL my stories will be slower, but they will continue to be written! Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Part 1: Dark Side of the Moon, 1999 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

The moon may have been out that night, but it did nothing to help Draco as he hurried down some stairs to the outside world. Snape was taking her to the forest, but why? There were too many awful scenarios popping into existence in his mind for the blonde to allow himself to think about it, but he knew he had to find her. The man got ahold of her somehow, and whatever his final plan was, it couldn't be good. Now if he could just pursue her without her bloody Gryffindor friends following him, life would be better.

"Malfoy," one of the dolts cried, finally convincing him to stop at the forest's edge. If Weasley didn't stop screaming his fucking head off Draco planned to rip it off himself. He only stopped because the idiot was making far too much noise, and he couldn't allow Snape to know how nearby he was.

"Would you shut up," he growled eyes livid. "I don't have the patience today to tolerate you Weasley, nor you Potter. This is my problem, so go away and quit being a bother." He turned away from the duo after they had finally gotten to his side.

Potter grabbed his arm. "Not so fast Malfoy; you owe us an explanation."

He scoffed, turning back again. "I owe you _nothing_. You're the ones that followed me, not the other way around. Shove off Potter, you're wasting valuable time."

The raven-haired boy narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean _I'm _wasting time? This has something to do with Hermione! So stop wasting _our _time, and just tell us what's going on. She's our friend-"

"Don't," he said, shaking his head at the pair. "I don't have time for your lectures. This doesn't even concern you!"

"No, it shouldn't concern _you_, Ferret," Ron growled in return, bawling up his fists. "This has something to do with you, I know it! Hermione's our friend, and we are coming with you whether or not you like it."

He pursed his lips. Having two Gryffindors along for this trip would only complicate things, and he was certain Snape had no intentions for anyone to be around except for the three of them. Potter and Weasley were additional bodies, and with additional bodies would come additional danger. He wasn't sure how the Professor would react to their presence, but it was unlikely to be good. Putting her in more danger was something he could not tolerate under any circumstances, so what would he do? Having them follow would almost certainly mean bad things.

_But what if something goes wrong between us? What if Snape takes Hermione down, or me? They could prove their worth by being here if only one of us escapes, but having them stalk me to wherever Snape has gone could be deadly. As helpers however…_

Draco turned to Potter, whom he was sure was saner than his ginger haired friend. "Wait here; if something goes wrong, you'll be retrieved. Otherwise, you probably won't even remember."

The boys tensed, tightening up their stances. "What do you-" Harry began.

"Stupefy," the blonde cried, knocking Harry with the spell first. Weasley screamed something behind him that he deflected, and a few simple spells had him on the ground frozen as well. A flick of his wand and ropes bound themselves around the boys lower bodies.

"Nothing personal," he said, casting the final silenco spell on the pair. Picking up Potter's wand, Weasley's still nestled in his pocket, he set them just behind a tree where they could be easily retrieved if the idiots were needed. "You just pose as too much of an inconvenience. Or maybe it is personal- I never did like either of you." Slitted eyes glared back at him, but he didn't give the pair a second thought. Turning, he bolted into the forest, insistent on finding her before anything bad happened.

Lighting his wand, he looked around the entrance to the dark forest. Immediately, he found himself at a disadvantage; he had no way of knowing where they had gone. Spinning in circles just inside the dark enclosure, he felt at a loss. Now what was he going to do?

_You have to calm down and really think. Snape took her; even let you see them through a window- but is that convenience or fate? Did he want me to see them, or was it all by accident? If he does expect me to find them, he has to have left something behind in his wake for me to do so. _

He glanced around furiously, searching for something. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help thinking how marvelous it was to take the Wonder Duo down with perfect ease. Had they really been taken that off guard? But he couldn't let himself focus on that small victory, when he still had a battle to face.

_Where are they?!_

Then his eyes caught it, the single clue that he continued to overlook. In the shadows it was nearly a ghost- invisible to him until he looked closer. Reaching out, he tore the small square of fabric off the branch. In the light, it was all too obvious that it was part of the school uniform- part of the shirt in fact.

It was cut perfectly, shaped into an even square like something on a muggle quilt. The piece had not been left behind by accident obviously, and it sparked something in his mind.

_It's not a shred of fabric, it's a square. I doubt Hermione has much of an ability to move, if any at all. If she left it, it would be shredded. This had to be Snape._

_And he's leaving a path for me to follow. _

He took down the path the fabric indicated to, hurrying along. At the next crossroad, he searched frantically again. He was leaving a path, so he had to believe he had everything figured out, and probably believed he was going to win at a twisted game.

Draco just couldn't let him. Victory would likely mean death for one of them, and that would be the end of his short bliss. He didn't spend an eternity searching for her just to have it all end so quickly.

He needed to hurry.

* * *

Snape was by far the quietest person Hermione had ever met. The sleeve on one side of her body had been torn off and made into squares which he had scattered along the forest as they walked, and by now her feet hurt. She didn't know where they were going, but if they walked much longer she was going to collapse, again. It would make him mad, but at one point he cast her shoes and socks off into the bushes when she tried to escape and accidently broke his nose. Walking along with bare feet was exceptionally painful, and she knew her feet were bleeding by then.

What was the point of making this long walk? If he intended to kill them both, wouldn't it have been easier at the forest's edge? All this walking seemed like a waste of time, and she just wanted it over with. She needed Draco to come find her, and if he didn't she was going to try and take Snape's wand. Draco was taking forever to locate them, and she feared that by the time he did it would be too late.

_Don't let it be too late. _

She squirmed in Snape's grip as he dragged her along, wincing at the cruelty of his grip. Surely there would be bruises later, and that would require many long shirts to cover. What was she saying? She should be focused on escaping!

The dense trees broke apart a moment later, revealing a large clearing within the forest that possessed a small pond. As he pulled her into the hidden space, her eyes widened in realization. When the dementors came to Hogwarts's, this had been the place where Harry found Sirius and deflected the cruel beings from giving him the Kiss of death. It had been years since she came here, and how Snape knew of this place was beyond her.

He shoved her as they wandered towards the lake, and she caught herself on her bare knees, wincing as they were cut on impact. Whipping her head up, she expected to find him leering over her, but that was not the case. Continuing on, he walked to a barren patch of earth that seemed relatively uninteresting, yet she watched him with open eyes. What was he doing?

"Do you remember this place?" His voice broke the grim silence that had set over them since her fruitless escape, and with his back turned away she could breathe easily, even at his words. That broken nose of his gave him the true impression of a madman, and she couldn't fathom why he wouldn't fix it as they walked. The spell wasn't overly complicated, and she knew he could cast it.

"I suppose you wouldn't," he continued when she gave no response. Glancing back, he grinned. "Silly me Miss Granger, I forgot you can't speak."

She glared at him, thinking of the many things she would do if she only had a wand. But if she could Accio his to her, she might be able to fight him off and get away. Wandless magic wasn't her thing, but hopefully he would be a fool and give her back her voice as he continued speaking. He couldn't want a one sided conversation, could he?

The man shook his head at her. "You weren't even there, I forgot. You were home with your _beloved_, probably watching those sweet children of yours while your husband drank to his heart's content, like usual." She didn't make a move at his words, and he continued on like she cared. "Alexander was always so careless with you."

Hermione shifted her position, ignoring the irritation on her knees as they scraped the ground again. He only chuckled at her, turning his back again. She had half a mind to stand up, but thought better of it when she saw him crouch down, back still to her.

_What is he doing? _

The answer came barely a second later, sending chills down her spine. He was ever so slightly angled to her, and in her position she could see him softly brushing the dirt.

"My sweet Sofia, do not worry anymore. They shall _pay_." At this, he glanced back at her in the moonlight, eyes surely as black as his heart. "And you will pay Hermione, on Draco's behalf. As I have said, the both of you took away my happiness, now I shall take you away from each other."

She scrambled to her feet, thankful that somewhere along the way he had been stupid enough to give her back her own ability to move. If he were still dragging her along like a rag doll, she would be completely helpless against moving. But she feared that was the point; he wanted a game of this, something to appease his twisted head.

_Draco, get here already._

* * *

Although the paths were winding, he found his way along due to those helpful pieces of fabric. What Snape was playing at with them went beyond the blonde's mind, but he knew it wasn't good. When he began hearing a voice, his heart sped up. All that stumbling through the damned forest really did pay off.

He slowed his steps as he drew closer; reminding himself that Snape likely expected a big show of his arrival. If he snuck in while the man was speaking, he would have a slight advantage. Carefully placing his steps, he walked along the path, hearing the man's voice better with each step. Light caught his attention ahead, and as he got to it he realized it was far too dim to be a spell. Glancing up, he realized what it was.

_A clearing in the middle of the bloody forest? How did he ever find one of those?_

Immediately he found a spot between the leaves away from the scarce shrubbery where he could peer through. It appeared that he had somehow made his way to the opposite side they had entered through- the shrubs on the opposite side looking crushed- and had a view across a large lake. Prowling along the edge of this clearing, he hadn't even noticed how far he had walked. However seeing the pair apart got his mind swirling. If Snape brought her so far, didn't that mean he meant to hurt her, not speak to the dirt?

He caught the end of what he was saying, crawling out of his own thoughts. "-_pay_. And you will pay Hermione, on Draco's behalf. As I have said, the both of you took away my happiness, now I shall take you away from each other."

He watched her scramble immediately to her feet and nearly jumped through the trees to send a spell at Snape but at the last moment he hesitated. Hermione was on edge- and possibly scared- but Snape was collected. In fact, it almost didn't appear that he was watching her at all anymore but looking towards _his _side of the forest. But why?

Malfoy stood without a sound, watching him pace the same circle twice. As he began to walk away from her, Draco began walking quietly along the perimeter again, always keeping one eye on Hermione. He was playing at something, and it was quite obvious that he had something sneaky up his sleeve.

And then it happened, and Draco immediately regretted trying to one up the Professor. Snape spun quickly, aimed his wand, and called out a spell. "Sectumsempra!"

Draco was in the clearing in a moment, hardly able to watch the quick, long gashes appearing across her torso. Getting the wand out of Snape's hand proved ill quickly, and the man was smiling maliciously as they finally faced off.

_Looks like she at least did some damage. But where did that spell come from? _

"I wondered when you would join us Draco," he said, shielding himself from the blonde's second curse. "I will admit, you are sneaky. Walking the perimeter? Quite clever, though your hair was easy to pick out between the small Lumos spell and the moon. Perhaps if you had walked the forest without any sight, I wouldn't have noticed you."

He bit his lip, fighting down any response. He tried to keep his mind on the opponent before him, the very man that continued to cause so much trouble. He just couldn't. The blonde continued to let his mind- and eyes- drift to the girl across from them between every other word Snape had been saying. That cruel attack was nothing more than something that drew him from the trees. If he had jumped out to begin with, that might've been prevented, and the reality of his thoughts weighed heavily in his mind as he watched Snape study him. It was his fault she was now bleeding.

"What do you want?" he asked at length, when it became apparent that the man had nothing more to say. To this he grinned, and it made his stomach do flips. Snape still had something cooking in his mind, and the need to divert his attention from Hermione for just a bit longer outweighed the urge to hex him. If they started fighting and he turned his wand on her, well, Draco would never forgive himself for being the cause of her pain.

Snape chuckled. "You heard what I want Mr. Malfoy. I want my revenge."

"Revenge for what?" He already knew all the answers just as she did, but he needed time. And he needed a plan before she bled too much. Having been on the receiving end of the Sectumsempra curse reminded him that it was exceptionally painful and could be deadly if the marks were right. He glanced at her again; it didn't look like they were fatal, but the girl had sat up again, and he could tell her hands were bound. It bothered him how the bastard could treat her so… roughly.

Snape waved his wand at Draco, as though the answer were very clear. "You want to know why Mr. Malfoy? You wish to know why I seek my revenge?" The wand stopped bouncing, fixating on him again. "You heard me speaking. As I've said, you took something away from me, and now I shall return the favor."

"What did I take away?" He was quick to interject the question when he saw the man's eyes sliding to Hermione.

Immediately, a glossy look overtook the man's eyes. It was different from the look one has when they are about to shed tears, but nonetheless he looked far away suddenly. Draco tightened his grip, ready to take the man's wand the moment he was distracted enough. Trying now though would only get his spell deflected, and again remind Snape that he was an excellent fighter.

He pointed at Hermione, thankfully using the hand that did not hold a wand. "You have followed her for more than one lifetime Draco Malfoy. You have gone through hell, and pain, to be with someone you cared about. Some unknown force gave you the ability to pursue the girl you loved, which is not something that a lot of people are given the chance to do." He switched directions, strangely enough indicating to the dirt he had been petting earlier. "I will never have that chance, not one I can remember."

Draco stiffened as the man began moving, but his eyebrows shot up as he moved towards the dirt instead of Hermione. With all his bullshit about revenge, he expected an immediate attack. With the bastard's back turned, he really chanced a glance at her and his eyes widened in alarm. War had trained the girl's body to endure pain apparently, and despite the bound arms, she had gotten to her feet and was slowly making her way to him. He moved to hurry to her.

"Not another step," Snape called, spinning back. As the blonde expected, the wand was not pointed at him but the wounded girl. Leave it to Snape to take the easy route and attack the wounded.

Glancing at the girl, he nodded his consent to Snape. He refused to risk getting her hurt, and motioned for her to stay. It was only about a ten foot difference now, and the blood leaking down her front infuriated him. As soon as his back was turned…

"That's how Sofia looked," he said sadly, drawing the blonde's ears but not his eyes. He focused on the distance between Hermione and Snape ready to step between if anything when wrong. "Just before she died."

"What happened to her?" Draco played on his story, hoping he would turn back. Snape was insane, and now that the distance was so short he felt a bit better about trying to curse him.

"I killed her," he remarked sadly, stopping any train of thought Draco possessed. He whipped his head back to stare at the man, who was looking sadly down at the ground again. "She just did not listen."

Silence took over. For once, Snape didn't turn back, and Draco feared he really had snapped. Even when he moved to walk closer to her, the man made no move to acknowledge that he knew they were moving. It took no time at all to have her at his side, his next move already in mind. Their Professor continued to stroke the dirt in the same odd way, and he was quick to stupefy him. It was the first spell that same to mind, and he cast the same strong ropes around Snape's form that he had Potter and Weasley's.

And then Snape became nothing to him, and all his attention focused on the bleeding girl at his side. Grabbing her as softly as he could, he looked straight into her eyes. "You have to lie down; I have to heal those wounds before you lose any more blood!"

She nodded and sat back down, though he wondered why she wouldn't speak. Realization dawned on him as she opened her mouth to speak, and no words came out. She had been _cursed _to not speak, and it only heated his blood. If Snape though things would end so easily after all this time, he was sourly mistaken.

Hermione gasped quietly as he healed the gashes, crouching between her and Snape as he lifted her shirt to heal the gashes. It took two tries to heal the cuts, and a third to make sure any lasting effects were terminated in that moment. As soon as he believed she was alright, he grabbed her and pulled her into a suffocating hug.

"Are you alright?" He spoke into her hair, nearly eating the disjointed curls, but he didn't care. He could feel her, feel that she was whole and alive, and that was all he needed.

"I'm fine," she said back slowly. Pulling back, she met his eyes, "Draco, he brought me here for a reason."

"To kill you," he snapped, glancing back at the man. He looked furious, but the blonde didn't care. "We can't linger here; whatever the plan was it didn't follow through- and thank Merlin for that- but we have to get back to the school. I have no idea how to explain this yet, but we can't just expect him to be civil when classes begin tomorrow."

She met his eyes briefly before standing, dragging the blonde with her. He half expected her to look afraid of her captor, but nothing but irritation and anger lay beneath her eyes. Apparently dealing with a mad man could not deter this girl's courage, and he blamed that fully on the house she represented as a student. Fucking Gryffindor courage.

"There's something here," she whispered, glancing back at the dirt. The message did not mean the same to him, and he pulled out his wand before pulling her to him, glancing around.

"Where?"

"Nothing dangerous," she commended, watching Snape. "Not anymore. There just seems to be something here that drew him to this place, specifically the earth."

Draco shrugged. "So what? It's dirt, and it's irrelevant. We have to get out of here-"

"It's something," she argued, glancing up at open space to the moon. "Something that might be important."

He tugged her arm. "Then we'll figure it out later. Come on-"

And then it happened, the one thing they had both been dreading during their banter. There was no time from the moment he had Hermione next to him to that moment to really get anything in order. They were both on edge, panicked over what might've happened if he had succeeded. Yet both teens, so advanced in skill and intellect, overlooked an important aspect of dueling. They had Snape bound, but they never grabbed his wand. They had been so caught up in seeing one another and ensuring that they were alright, that neither wanted to think about Snape too much. They thought about what to do later after they escaped, not in the present.

And that would be their downfall. They seemingly knew how to do everything with a wand in the world, except take Snape's when they needed to the most. It could prove to be a fatal mistake.

With their backs turned to him for that split moment, the attacker saw his chance. His mind was twisted between remorse and revenge, and that indecisive moment when he let memories cloud his mind had given Draco the opportunity to take him down, even though his attack was diluted. If anything, Snape expected a series of terrifying curses, not simple spells. He did after all cause many problems, and dare to harm her.

Now though, he had the upper hand. Having used wandless and wordless magic before, getting out of the two spells was easy. And with the duo distracted, he saw a chance.

He talked about getting revenge, and he would have it. But when he cried out the spell and it hit its target, it was not what was expected.

Draco hit the ground gasping. For a moment after his fall Hermione was in shock, before she twisted around to see the man standing again. He was supposed to be attacking her, right?

"What are you doing? What did you do?!" She glanced at Draco, watching the blood leaking through his shirt. "What kind of spell was that!?"

She took a step back as he walked forward, reclaiming his original place. "It's an older curse my dear, one that has long since been forgotten. I will not tell you the name, for then your pretty little head will go searching through too many books. It simply works like a gunshot, with the spell entering from a central point. From there, the body will shut down as the wound seeps blood and the spell works like a poison, shutting the body from the inside out. Now, what were we discussing?"

Hermione shook her head, watching the man pat the ground. He really was mad, and what he was doing to Draco would likely leave little time for her to think. The spell sounded like it worked fast, and glancing at him she could see the blood dripping through the material. Did he feel the same sort of panic moments ago when she was in the same state or pain? His looked even worse…

"I was telling you about my revenge," Snape continued as her eyes locked on the blonde's wand. She turned back to him and held her hand behind her back, ready to call it to her in a moment. "I was going to make Draco suffer like I have, but things change. Looks like you'll be suffering now."

"Why must we suffer," she asked quietly, his eyes fixed on her. If he got another attack in and they were both hurt, she wasn't sure what she was going to do.

"Because, you took Sofia away from me," he muttered, glancing for a split second at the ground. She got a funny feeling about that look. "She went to another."

In her mind, something clicked together slowly. Blood… away… She let her mouth fall open a moment.

"You killed her," she muttered quietly. "You said so yourself. You say we took her away from you, but it sounds like you took her away from yourself. I remember you left England shortly after her death, despite how you felt." She took another step back. "You're blaming us for what you did yourself."

"You convinced her to go," he spat, pointing at her. "You and him! The two of you worked against me and took away the only person I have ever felt anything for."

Vaguely, she recalled a story about Snape and Harry's mother Lilly, but discarded the thought. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to bring that up now. If he was so painstakingly stuck on revenge, then bringing up other issues wouldn't help her. But she was getting an idea of what hid beneath the dirt now, and it made her stomach turn almost as much as the idea of Draco bleeding did.

She gulped. "Then I only have one more question for you Snape."

He sneered, looking back up at her. "Ask away Miss Granger, for your time is almost up." He pointed his wand up at her, and she flexed her fingers. She knew exactly what she had to do.

"How did you remember? I didn't remember my past, not until Draco showed it to me. If you're going to kill me, there's no harm in telling me."

"There's no harm in telling you anyway Miss Granger, for it would be irrelevant to you if you remember already." His expression darkened further, though she didn't believe it was possible until that moment. "During the war, Voldemort tried to end my life. I had used the Elder Wand, meaning I must die before it would work properly for him. We were in a room with a mirror behind me. When he killed me, my soul tried to leave my body but hit the mirror and bounced back into my fallen body. I didn't wake up for a long time, and when I did I was so confused I no longer understood who I was, so I hid. It was only after the war that I made it known that I was still alive. By then, I already knew who I needed to find, and who I needed to kill. I was able to recall a time in my life when someone returned my affections, even if it was only for a little while. But it was the two of you that took her away, and I knew from the moment that school began that I had to repay you for that deed."

_I guess you can't die if a mirror is nearby? _She didn't fully understand, but didn't linger on it. There would be time to talk to Draco about that curiosity later- there had to be.

Hermione nodded her head once. "Thank you then Snape, for enlightening me," she said. "Accio!" With his wand in her hand, she saw the Professor's eyes ignite. Wasting no time, she quickly disarmed him and threw as many spells as she could at him, until she saw him fall to the ground unconscious. Unlike Draco who was far too concerned with getting her away above all else, she picked up his wand before rushing back to the blonde's side, whose shirt was stained in blood.

"Draco!" She fell to her knees beside him, looking from his face to his back and back again. She shook his shoulder, half trying to revive him and half attempting to heal the wounds. "Draco!"

"HM?"

"Get up!" She shook him harder, forcing him to open his eyes. "Just like that! Keep your eyes open. Don't shut them again, or you might slip into a concussion or… worse! Stay awake!"

"Hermione," he grumbled as she used a slicing spell to tear open his shirt. She didn't want to roll him at all, though she did wonder if he could breathe well lying on his front.

"Shh," she said, continuing with her work. She healed the gash immediately, but it was the internal work that scared her. How would she fix that? "I need help," she muttered, glancing at his eyes again. They were watching her every move.

"Weasley… Potter…" Now she knew he was delusional if he was muttering her friends' names. "They're at the… edge of the forest."

"They are?" She could only imagine why they were there, much less why they were staying there. "I'll send some red sparks up, and hopefully they'll see them soon."

"Hopefully… they got out of the ropes." She didn't ask what that meant, too concerned and shaky to be funny. She stood and in her panic sent three jets of red sparks towards the sky, hoping desperately that someone would see them. Harry and Ron were ideal, but she would take anyone's help at that point. As soon as she was done, she collapsed back at his side.

"I'm going to try to start pulling the magic out," she said, trying to recall the exact process. She could visibly see her hands shaking, and swallowed her nerves. She needed to help him, but she was pretty sure she was more nervous about doing something wrong than anything. Doing something wrong might be fatal, and although she was smart she was not a trained Healer.

"Don't," he muttered, his eyes dancing shut and then open again. "People… will come."

"Stay awake," she demanded, patting his cheek. "You're not allowed to sleep!"

"It's ok… Hermione."

"No it's not! You need to rest, but not yet, not until we can be sure you'll wake back up. Don't worry, okay? Don't worry, when people get here everything will be fine-"

She cut off her rambling when he reached up and pat her knee softly, and the action looked like it hurt. She wondered how far along the poison was, and it only worried her more. "It's ok. If I die… I die happy."

"Don't say that," she screamed, glaring at him. "Don't ever say that! You're not going to die-"

"It's okay," he said, dropping his hand. "It's… revenge for letting you die, once. It's my… immortal punishment. If I die, I die… happy."

"Stay awake," she cried, feeling the tears want to leak down her face. He was fading in and out, and even as she grabbed his wand again and began chanting spells she knew it was beyond her skill level. Snape had said this was an old forgotten spell, and apparently it was one she had never seen before. Her magic did not help.

Minutes passed quietly until she began to hear footsteps. She didn't look up when the people breeched the clearing, nor when she was pulled away from him, kicking and screaming. She didn't open her eyes.

She didn't know what she would do if he died, and she had been there the whole time unable to stop it.

* * *

**A/n: **So, I'm torn on this chapter. It has all the ideas I wanted in it, but I think it comes off a bit… weird. The chapter is rough, and I'll have to go back in at some point and rewrite this. But since updates on all my stories will be weird for a while I at least wanted to get this up, even if I'm not totally satisfied. I'll rewrite this one when I have time, but for now here's the chapter. There's one more, so don't start panicking about the outcome of this story yet. They are wizards, and happy things could come…

How do you think the final chapter will go? Happy, or sad?


	28. Epilogue

**A/n: **Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

**Disclaimer: **All Harry Potter characters belong to J. K Rowling.

**Disclaimer: **You've probably seen plots similar to this in multiple books. Hopefully this story will be just a tad different :)

* * *

**Walk Beside Me, 2000 (Life Six)**

**Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger**

"… Hermione Granger."

She looked up when her name was called, having not been paying an ounce of attention thus far. She had already given her speech as the only remaining Head of Hogwarts at this point, and had since been sitting quietly in her seat, searching the crowd with her eyes. People she expected to see at the front were there; the Weasley's dominated the better part of the middle front row, all smiles to watch Ron walk for his own diploma. Her parents sat only a few seats over, watching proudly as well.

But things weren't meant to be this way, she was supposed to be the co-Head of Hogwarts's students, walking beside Malfoy when they gave their speech and sitting in the very front row of the students, receiving their diploma's first.

He wouldn't walk with her though, and she gulped as all eyes focused on her. Whatever the Headmistress had been saying so far went unheard by her ears, but now her name had been called and she was forced to rise from her seat without him, and make the long walk to receive her diploma.

He was supposed to be graduating with her, walking down the stage that usually held the Professor's tables in the great hall, marching towards the rest of their lives. But fate had a funny way of changing the paths you try to create for yourself, and they had fallen prey to those changes. He would not be with her for now.

Hermione couldn't keep her eyes on McGonagall while she walked. Her eyes constantly danced back over the crowd, searching for his blonde head. But she couldn't find him, and a weight was beginning to set in her chest. Where was he?

Stopping in front of the Headmistress, she accepted her diploma silently, the key to her successful future, proving she had an excellent education. People clapped accordingly- with the Weasley's and her parents being exceptionally loud- but as she made her way off the other side and another student was called forward, her eyes moved around the room again. She was about to turn back to her seat when something caught her eye.

Blonde hair eased itself through the crowd, the person maneuvering past excited parents and siblings. The person seemed to go unnoticed by most- even despite the soft tap of his cane with each step- but she couldn't take her eyes off of him. No light illuminated the better half of the audience, and since the students were all seated down there to await their degree she had no problem slipping past prying eyes towards him. The students following after her gave the Head Girl an odd look as she darted off, but only one set of eyes followed her to the open door that she slipped out of. Without a thought, the person followed her outside of the Great Hall, through the side door teachers rarely used.

Delighted at his appearance on the scene, she threw her cap off as he walked out to greet her. His movements were a bit awkward now, but the cane did a fine job of helping him along. She didn't care though, so long as he was there.

Grabbing his face in her hands when they were out of sight of the people in the room, she kissed the blonde. "I thought you wouldn't come," she said quietly, stepping back immediately after her show of affection to give him space to maneuver himself.

He grinned, using his unoccupied arm to wrap her in a semi hug. "I wouldn't miss it," he replied, watching her face break into a grin. "Pomfrey kept me back longer than I cared for, ranting about the salve that needed to be put on my back. I'll have to go back when this event is over and have her handle the curse again."

Hermione nodded grimly, hating when he spoke about the spell Severus Snape inflicted on him. It had nearly ended his life that night.

After casting the red sparks into the sky, she attempted to help her blonde boyfriend in every way she could think of. But the blood seeped out, and she began losing hope. It was Harry that found them a few minutes later, bursting into the clearing panting. He had used a spell to find her, hoping that it would lead him to the right place. He then proceeded into an explanation about escaping the binds Draco had put him and Ron into, before Ron ran back for help. In return, Hermione explained nothing to him about what exactly was going on and simply begged him to help her heal the blonde. He agreed, and they held out until help arrived.

Getting Draco back to Hogwarts's was the easy part. Figuring out how to heal him was the difficult side of things. Hermione rightly refused to leave his side, attempting to help Pomfrey however she could. But it became fairly obvious that nothing could be done while he remained there, and he was sent to St. Mungo's. When Minerva told the girl that she could not follow, hell broke loose.

Mostly, people wanted to know what was going on. Unable to think up a good story, Hermione had turned to Snape to see what lies he would spew to their audience. An Auror came to the school to overhear what was going on between the faculty members and the students, and she had never been so thankful to see a Ministry member.

An unspoken weight rested above Hermione and Snape's heads. Telling the truth would come across as insanity, and they- along with Draco- would be shipped somewhere for mental help. She didn't know what to do or how to go about things. At least it did seem that everyone was on her side with Draco, since he was the one who got injured. She convinced the Auror that nothing would be said unless the advisor of his department came down to oversee their stories, and only so long as veritaserum was used. Perhaps it was because she was Hermione Granger, or maybe because he took pity on what looked like a frightened girl, but the man agreed to Floo his advisor.

It took six hours to get someone there, and by that time she was walking in circles, completely terrified about how Draco could be doing. No one would tell her anything about his condition now, and it was trying her nerves to know that people could keep such things from her. She cared about him, so why did they have to be so secretive?

By the time the advisor arrived- Andrew Edison- everyone had been evacuated from the room, save Hermione, Snape and one of the top Auror's. Although she knew that they could not go outside of the room and speak what they heard, she felt uneasy taking the potion with this unneeded body around. Taking the potion was like throwing herself at Edison's feet, hoping beyond hope that he would hear the true story with an open mind. If he thought for some reason that something was poisoning their minds, they would still be sent away to be treated- or studied.

Thankfully, Edison was very open. He asked questions to the both of them, never letting an ounce of emotion show on his face. The way he masked what he was thinking reminded the brunette so much of Draco that it hurt. She still did not know at that time how he was doing.

By the time their stories were finished, all of the truth was out on the table. For some reason, Edison failed to ask Snape what was so important about the dirt in the clearing, but she supposed that it was irrelevant. Edison still had a stony expression on his face, but the other man looked quite perplexed. She nearly regretted her choice to take the potion and spill everything.

But, Edison seemed to still like the idea. He asked no more questions past the conclusion of their stories, and simply asked the other man to follow him from the room. The time following his departure felt suffocating, and Hermione did not feel comfortable being alone with the man. Only did she learn later that the room was being surveillanced by that point, and any sudden movements towards the other would've gotten the both of them attacked by Auror's.

It seemed to take ages, but Edison did reappear with three other men. One was the original Auror that came to the school, and another was the man that stood in there with them while they were under the influence of the potion, and he was the only one that appeared perplexed and confused at all. Edison announced that Snape would be taken to the Ministry for further questioning about his attack on two students, and the four Auror's took the silent man away. She found herself left alone with the head of the Auror's, Edison.

"_You can't tell people things like that Miss Granger, and expect it to be taken lightly. Mr. Malfoy is currently in treatment for his back, and at this time cannot be questioned. Since I know you cannot lie under the influence of that potion, I know that you are telling the truth. How that is the truth though, I don't understand."_

"_You're a very daring woman to go to such lengths to prove that Professor Severus Snape is the one at fault here. If your story is true- and I am not saying I believe such strange things- then to bring this case to trial in the Ministry courts would cause an up rise among our magical community that would end traumatically, don't you agree?"_

_She nodded at the time, unable to decide what to do. _

"_There must be some sort of truth within the things you told to me, else the magic would've harmed you until you stopped resisting. No wizard or witch alive can resist the potion, and I doubt both of you would collaborate together to make up a story that pinned Mr. Snape as the culprit. Therefore, I must keep my mind open and believe that what I heard is the truth. And if it is the truth, then precautions must be taken to make sure none of this I ever heard by anyone who was outside this room."_

_She nodded again at the time, thinking first of Harry and Ron, who had started asking her questions before she ever got out of the forest. How would she explain things?_

"_As I said, this cannot go to court. Therefore, I shall speak with the Minister about where to go from here. This is not something we usually deal with, and to try and figure out how to on my own would be far too great a task. Rest assured, he will likely agree that the magical community is not ready to understand such complicated topics, and accept them with open, clear minds. You will not be asked to go to trial for this."_

"_Then how will anything be resolved?"_

_Edison pursed his lips. "I do not yet know."_

She waited for his response for what to do for weeks. For weeks she ignored her friends questions and was shunned for her silence, unsure how to get them to believe her unless she was under the influence of the potion again. It was a lonely few weeks with Draco in the hospital, but not as bad as it could be. When they finally discovered that the core of the magic had attacked his spine, it was determined that the magic would need to be pulled manually from his body overtime, and taking it all out at once would shock his nervous system and cause further problems. That was when he finally asked her to do something for him, after weeks of visits.

He asked Hermione to find him a cane. He refused to lie in that bed and wait for answers to come to him. And she did just that. One day after his request, she took the day off from school- to the surprise of everyone- and headed into Hogsmeade to find him a cane. Her funds were limited, and the town reminded her of an unpleasant set of kisses shared with Viktor Krum. The visit wasn't pleasant, but she did manage to purchase him a cane that was not at all showy, but enough to support him when walking. It was nothing compared to the decorated cane Draco's father was known to walk with, but it worked.

And he loved it. As soon as he was permitted, he left St. Mungo's, walking and all. She waked beside him, overjoyed that he was still able to. They were warned that it would be a slow process to heal hi back- and that he might just be crippled for the rest of his life- but she didn't let that affect the way she saw him. He came after her that day, and he was still going to continue on in life now, and the girl couldn't be more proud.

It wasn't long after that that the pair received a letter from the Ministry, addressed to the both of them. It was short, and to the point. Hermione didn't agree with the contents, and Draco thought far more should've been done, but the end result was something neither could change. Snape's mind had been obliviated, removing any memories of the past or present. Problem was, the caster didn't know how much to erase, and swiped the whole of the man's mind clean. They heard a week later that he was being sent off to a different, larger hospital in Berlin.

Hermione almost pitied him for his fate.

Draco chuckled at the circumstances of everything, which usually earned him a scowl.

After that, things were rocky between the two and their friends. People didn't know how to react to them as a couple, and even fewer people understood. Mostly, it was Harry and the Weasley's that stood as a problem. They did not understand everything, and demanded answers about Snape as well as Draco. She could only supply so many without delving into dark tales, and that did not satisfy everyone. She tried to forget about it sometimes, and hoped that one day the topic would be dropped. It would take time though.

And Draco continued his schooling, but was unable to walk the aisle without his back hurting him. Treatments were rough, and since he only had one a day prior to graduation he resigned from walking with the class. Hermione was disappointed, but glad that he showed up.

"How much magic is left?" She asked quietly. "Do you know?"

He brushed his fingers over her face, moving strands of flyaway hair back behind her ear. "I'm not sure love. Pomfrey said that she would take care of me tomorrow, and then past that I'll either have to go to St. Mungo's to continue treatment or have someone come to my home to help."

"Will you return to the Manor?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps. My charming parents couldn't find the time to come see me today of all days, so I am not entirely sure I want to dwell in their company once I'm out of school. It will depend on how things go I suppose." He leaned a bit closer. "On whether or not you want me to."

She chuckled, giving him a soft shove away. "Oh, I don't know. We have plenty of time to worry about that; we aren't even done with school until after today."

Draco shrugged, pulling her in towards him with his one arm. "I suppose that's true. Are you planning to return with your parents then for a while?"

"Yes. I want to get things in order before I start deciding about schools past Hogwarts, or whether I'm just going to go on to finding a job. I haven't even thought about getting my own place!"

He grinned. "Perhaps we'll find one together."

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing that would come up at some point with him. She pulled on his collar, giving him a coy smile. "We'll have to see where fate takes us."

"Ah, fate. We're going to let the little devil play with our lives again?"

To this she simply shrugged, standing on her toes again to give him another kiss. "Well, fate can't be so bad anymore, can it? I mean, we finally got together."

* * *

The festivities following the ceremony were wonderful. The Weasley twins brought some of their merchandise and sold it to troublesome children wandering about, causing a lot of mayhem throughout the Great Hall as parents and friends attempted to talk. This would be the last day they were together, unless students decided to stay one extra day and partake in a large feast held in their honor, and take the final train ride home a week early with their friends. The majority of the students planned on doing just that.

Hermione found her parents somehow despite the crowd, and they congratulated her. Introducing Draco though was another story entirely, and she got the feeling that they thought he was older than his actual age because of the cane. Oh well, there would be time to explain later, when she returned home late tomorrow. For now she just wanted to focus on celebrating.

At one point, she crossed paths with Harry and Ron while trying to escape with Draco, saying there was one final thing she wanted to look at before she was needed to bid her parents goodbye. It was the redhead that stopped her, squishing her into a large hug.

"We did it Hermione! We actually graduated!"

"Is it that surprising Ron?"

He pulled back. "Well, for me. With my grades, I was beginning to get a bid worried."

She smiled, and Harry gave her the same warm congratulations. They both nodded towards the blonde, who hardly spared them a glance. He had completed his education as well, yet they would offer him no words. She knew it was going to take a long time to get any of them to get along.

"You want to come find George and Fred?" Ron asked, looking at her earnestly. She suspected that he wanted her to leave Draco for a while, but the fact of the matter was that she needed to check something out with him. Giving the ginger a warm smile, she reclined.

"I actually have something I need to investigate," she said kindly, hugging them both once more before she snatched up the blonde's free hand.

Their faces fell, and she knew it wasn't going to be easy to slip by. "You'll still be coming on Tuesday right? Everyone will be out of school by then, and mom's going to have this huge feast-"

"Yes Ron," she replied with a laugh, shaking her head, "I would never miss your mother's cooking."

"Good," he said, giving Malfoy one last glance. "So… we'll see you later?"

"Definitely," she agreed, before heading off. She knew Draco couldn't walk for too long without his back beginning to hurt, so she wanted to get what she needed to do done as quickly as possible.

She dragged him outside, and it was then that the blonde's interest finally peaked. "Where are we going?"

Glancing at him, Hermione began pulling him towards the forest. "You'll see."

* * *

"Why would you ever want to come back here?" he asked, sitting on a rock she had levitated over. He was tired from walking all the way back to the clearing, and she knew his back was hurting.

"I wanted to investigate something," she replied, snatching his cane away to set it gingerly on a nearby rock. He scowled at her coddling, but she didn't give him the time of day as she turned back to her task.

"You don't need to watch me as though I'm going to break Hermione."

She glanced back. "Don't start Draco. You've spent many lifetimes watching out for my wellbeing, I can spare some time in this life to do the same for you."

He kept his expression firm until she turned away again, and then let a smile slip through his lips. Damn it all, it felt good to know that she wanted to make sure he was okay just as much as he tried to watch her. To know that their feelings were finally the same felt brilliant, and despite his hurt back it sent thrills through his body. It had been a long time since she loved him back.

"So what are you doing?" he asked when she began using her wand to move piles of dirt.

"I'm just looking," she replied. "Snape had this odd obsession with the dirt here. I just wondered why."

"Because he's cree-"

"Draco! Come look!" She interrupted him mid-sentence and her sudden cries had him scrambling for the fucking cane.

"Damnit woman," he snapped, standing up. "What's wrong?"

He didn't need an answer as he reached the whole she had now created and peered down. About six feet under lay something wood, with words scripted on the front. It was a coffin, and as he peered closer he could read at least the first name; _Sofia_.

Hermione's skin was white at his side, and she reached out to grip his hand tightly. "It's a grave."

"Looks like Snape is quite twisted," Draco mused, looking at the site before them. "Someone scratched out the last name."

"I bet I can guess who."

He nodded grimly, ignoring his aching back as he peered around. "I wonder if she is the only body here."

At his side, Hermione stiffened. "Please don't go there." He wrapped an arm around her at the girl's obvious discomfort, rubbing her shoulders.

"I wonder why he chose this place specifically."

"I suppose we'll never know," Hermione mused. She shook her head. "I didn't expect to find that, not really. I just wanted to know what he was obsessing about."

"He was obsessing about her," the blonde replied. "It's been nearly six months since that night Hermione. You've told me everything he said enough times for me to wager that everything didn't sit right with him. He got his memories back through a traumatic moment and did not have a fantastic place with which to work through the confusion. I think his version of reality was always a bit warped."

"Perhaps." He simply shrugged.

They were silent for a moment, staring at the old coffin before Hermione began replacing the dirt over it. When the hole was filled again, she turned to find Draco again, only to be stopped halfway by his body. He gripped her tightly, attacking her lips in a feverish kiss she was all too willing to go along with.

When they pulled apart, he was grinning. "Well what was that for?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," he said casually, moving to step away. She caught him though, and refused to let go.

"Well?"

He chuckled, hugging her once more. "It's just a great day Hermione. It's great to know it's the end of my immortal punishment."

And she smiled into his chest. She couldn't agree more.

* * *

**Final A/n: **Yup, that's the end! I hope you liked this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. The plot was fun to play around with and the overall feel of the story is different from a lot of the things I have written before. Don't be shy and feel free to check out any of my other stories on the site! My newest is Smittenly Bitten.

Thanks for reading :D Leave one last comment if you'd like to lovelies!


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